


Iactura

by 37054ljH



Category: Mystery Skulls Animated
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anti-Hero ???, Arthur dies instead, Arthur is a dancer, Arthur-centric, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Character Death, Child Abuse, Depression, Electrobeats, F/M, For the first part, Graphic Description of Corpses, Grief, Guardian Arthur, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Luxury, M/M, Mordred is not completely evil, Multi, Nightmares, Nudity, OT3, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Polyamory, Protector Arthur, Redemption, Romance, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempts, Survivor Guilt, Tags May Change, The Author Regrets Nothing, The rest of the gang come in much later, Torture, Tragedy, Violence, but he's definitely a very flawed character, but what am I doing with my life?, dance, ghost!arthur, i'm just a sucker for angst, please expect very slow updates, though the romance will come in much later, what is WRONG with me?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-01-16 10:09:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 22
Words: 85,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21269321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/37054ljH/pseuds/37054ljH
Summary: Noun. iactūra f (genitive iactūrae); first declension. a throwing away. throwing overboard, jettison quotations; (figuratively) sacrifice.That night in the cave, a man was supposed to have been pushed off by his possessed best friend and potential love interest and land in front of his other love, whose memories would be erased of him to save her from the trauma of seeing him die. That man was also supposed to come back a vengeful wraith, determined to get revenge on the friend who he thought betrayed him, the one who lost his arm to a kitsune disguised as a dog.But that didn’t happen.





	1. The Day I Lost You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is inspired by TristanRambles (or Arthur-Tristan-Kingsmen on Tumblr)'s Double Trouble AU, in which Arthur manages to save Lewis from ??? but ends up dying and becoming the ghost instead due to his soul fusing with ???, and thus making him unable to pass on. Go check out his blog on Tumblr or his account on Archive of Our Own! He writes very good stories on the Mystery Skulls Animated fanbase, especially around Arthur and the OT3!

...

...

...

...

..._ur_...

...?

...what...?

...who was...

...who was that...?

_...thur..._

...What...was that...?

_...Ar--ur!_

No...who was that?

Why did he feel...

so numb?

What happened?

_Arthur! Pl...wa--up!_

Arthur...?

Who is...Arthur?

..._who am i...?_

_"Arthur! No, no, no, wake up! Please, I'm begging you! Don't do this to me!"_

Who was that? He felt that he knew the owner of that voice, but couldn't recall their name.

Why did they sound so...scared?

And why couldn't he feel anything?

_"Oh god, Arthur, can you hear me? Please, open your eyes, please!"_

The voice was desperate, fearful, and...what was hitting his face?

It was wet, warm, and tasted salty when it landed in his mouth, adding to the taste of iron already in it.

What...? Why was he...

His eyes twitched (oh, he didn't realize they were closed) as he struggled to open them. They felt heavy, and it actually _hurt_ to open them, but he knew he had to open them for the sake of the figure calling out to him brokenly. He had to comfort them, tell them everything would be okay, to not cry over him.

When he managed to get his eyes open, the first thing he saw was the color blue.

Blue?

_"Artie!"_ the figure cried. _"Oh thank god, d-don't worry, y-you're going to be okay, don't worry!"_

His vision was so blurry, and he couldn't get a clear view of the female before him. He knew her mouth was moving, but her words were merely scrambles of words he could barely decipher. He blinked, wanting to speak, wanting to ask her why she was crying, and why was it starting to _hurt_ so much.

He glanced down, unable to move his head, and saw something green sticking out of his chest, a green that was stained with so much _red_.

Wait...

Oh, that's right.

He blacked out as soon as he hit this thing, saving his dear best friend from whatever had taken ahold of him. It wanted to push Purple off, was adamant about it, and it had been taking control of him faster than he could call out a warning. He had been losing control fast, and he couldn't run back into the...cave?...where they had come from, nor could he fight it off for long.

So there had only been one thing left to do.

He threw himself from the ledge, zoomed right by Purple as the latter was in the midst of saying something to him, felt the air as Purple reached out to catch him but missed.

Felt the air zoom past him as he fell silently, then everything suddenly go numb.

**_"ARTHUR!!!"_** cried Purple before everything went black.**_ "NO!!!"_**

Ah...this really was starting to hurt now, but he was glad.

This meant his best friend was safe from him. He wouldn't have survived if he hadn't reacted fast enough to stop the thing controlling him.

He hadn't been the one to feel this agony.

He was glad that it was him and not his dear Purple...or his Blue.

Another sob was heard, and something wet continued to fall on his face, while hands were gently but desperately grasping at his cheeks, turning his face towards Blue's direction.

What was she saying?

Her mouth was moving, but he couldn't hear what she was saying.

_"Ar...ple...se...do..ie--on...me!"_

His hand twitched, and, shakily, with the little strength he had, brought it to Blue's face. Her face snapped towards it, immediately grabbing onto it and holding it tightly. When she brought it to her face, he immediately cupped it, trying to wipe away her tears.

She was so warm, too warm. Why was her skin burning him?

His mouth parted, and he tried to tell her to not cry, that everything would be okay, that she shouldn't fret over him, but instead he felt something force itself up his throat, causing him to choke painfully and something red to fly onto Blue's face.

He barely heard her cry in response.

_"Artie!"_

Oh god...

It hurt...

It hurt so much...

And he couldn't even whimper at the pain.

...But that was a good thing.

At least Blue wouldn't know how much pain he was in. At least Purple wouldn't know how glad he was that he wasn't feeling this.

More drops landed on his face, and he could feel his eyes becoming heavy. He was so...tired, he just wanted to _sleep_.

He weakly opened his mouth again and tried to speak.

"For...give me...Vi...vi...Le...wi...s...Mys...ter...y..." He inhaled sharply, choking on more of the red fluid as it came up. "I...love you...both...Vi...vi...Lew...is...so...much...I'm...so...s...o...r...r...y..."

Blue leaned closer, so close that he could feel her breath, so warm against his cold flesh.

Why was it so cold in here?

_"W--What did you say Artie? I...I didn't...quite catch that."_

Strange, was the sun setting? Or were the lights going out? That would explain why everything was going black again, why the numbness was returning, and why he could no longer hear Blue as she proceeded to plead with him, muttering words he couldn't pay anymore attention to.

He just...

...wanted...

...to sleep...

_"Artie...? Oh no, no, no, Arthur, don't you dare, don't you die, don't you dare die, y-you can't leave me! You can't leave Lewis, Arthur...! Arthur! Ar...r..."_

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...What...

He's...still alive...?

...no...

That can't be.

When he opened his eyes again, they were not heavy, and he felt no exhaustion or pain. Rather, he was on the floor, positioned in a way that looked like he fell asleep there.

He then looked down at his chest, finding no spike, but he did see a bloodstained white shirt and orange vest, all thanks to a gaping hole in the middle of his chest. He lifted a hand to it, confused at first, but felt no pain.

A scream of utter agony and sorrow echoed throughout the place, and he flinched, snapping his head in the direction of the scream.

Ah...the blue was Vivi...

He should've known, why did he think she would be anything else?

But...why was she crying?

He walked over to her, moving to place a hand over her shoulder to comfort her, before looking at what she was clinging to.

Oh...

...oh...

It was him (or was it him?), and he was laying impaled on the stalagmite, which, along with the floor under the body, was covered in so much red, red blood. An expression of utter peace was on his pale and green face, his eyes closed as if he were sleeping, but...he wasn't...

He was dead.

He was looking at his own body.

It was disconcerting, but...Arthur felt no anger, no sorrow, only...peace. He had done it. He stopped the demon from killing Lewis, from then doing god knows what to Vivi and Mystery afterwards. It had been him and not someone he loved.

He saved them.

But...why was Vivi crying so much?

Arthur moved to place a hand on her shoulder, but his hand only fazed through her shoulder as she continued sobbing over his body, weak pleas spilling from her lips as she clung to his face.

"Artie...no, please..." Her voice sounded so weak, so broken, and automatically he was shocked that he would ever hear that from someone like Vivi. "Don't go...don't leave...I need you, please...please come back!"

She was covered in so much blood--_his blood_, he thought--, and he felt sick to his now nonexistent stomach. He so badly wanted to comfort her, to soothe away her troubles, to wipe the blood off her, but how could he when he couldn't even touch her?

** _"Are you happy now?"_ **

Huh?

Who--

**_"I finally had a chance of escaping this place, of finally being free, of having a body! But you..."_**There was so much anger, anger that didn't belong to him, _shouldn't _belong to him. **_"You, a weak, insignificant, mortal, BUG just had to fight me off. Now, I'm stuck with you! I have accomplished NOTHING!"_**

Before Arthur could speak again, a horrible sucking sound was heard, then the sound of something collapsing to the ground. Turning back to Vivi, he saw that she was on the ground now, cradling his body in her arms. The body was limp in her hold, and more blood began to pool under them now that there was no stalagmite to stop the flow.

So much red...

"C-Come on Artie," Vivi mumbled brokenly, and although he didn't see her face, Arthur knew what her expression was. "You're off now, y-you're going to be just fine. C-Come on Sunshine, please, open your eyes. I have to hear what you just said! A-Artie, come on, t-this isn't funny anymore!"

Even though he didn't have a heart anymore, Arthur felt pain seep through his chest at the sight of Vivi, strong, passionate, lovely Vivi, breaking down over his corpse. Something warm began to trail down his cheeks, were they tears?

**_"How pathetic,"_** hissed the voice again. **_"Wasn't this what you wanted little boy?"_**

"Shut up," said Arthur lowly. "You have already done enough damage."

**_"_****I've ****_done enough damage?"_** repeated the voice before it began to laugh, a horrible, mocking laugh. **_"That's rich, coming from you mortal. I'm not the one who got us both killed, and I'm not the one who has no idea what the consequences are going to be for the both of us."_**

"What are you talking about?" Arthur asked.

The voice didn't reply, leaving him to listen to the sounds of Vivi's sobs.

She wasn't talking anymore, and now had her face buried into his body's chest, smearing blood all over her face and in her hair in the process. Thanks to that, her screams of despair were muffled, but that didn't lessen the pain it struck to him, and a crack was heard.

Arthur looked down, finding that his favorite star pin, which was once a golden yellow, was now a beautiful magenta with the edges marked with a beautiful bright blue. However, there was a crack that ran through it, turning it a sickly green, and it beat rhythmically, as if as a replacement heartbeat.

Arthur eyed it blankly a moment before looking back to Vivi, still sobbing over his corpse, and floated over to her. Lifting up a hand, he tried to touch her shoulder, but it fazed through. Immediately he pulled away, shocked, before he tried to wrap his arms around her quivering shoulders.

They too fazed through, and Vivi felt nothing.

"...this is..." she finally spoke, voice weak but no less grief-stricken. "This is all my fault...! I-I made you come here, I made us all come here! Why?! Why didn't I listen to you?! Why, WHY?!" She broke down again, her scream laden with self-hate and grief echoing off the walls and rattling him. Arthur couldn't stop himself from flinching, and felt his form flicker strangely, almost like electricity.

No, why was she blaming herself?! He had saved Lewis, had saved her and Mystery, she shouldn't blame herself!

Without thinking, Arthur reached into her mind, quickly but gently removing the memory of his death, a memory she didn't need of him. She didn't deserve this. She shouldn't blame herself for this, he had saved Lewis, it had been him and not someone he loved.

He didn't regret his actions, so Vivi shouldn't blame herself for this.

As he stole the memory, Vivi's face went blank, so quickly it disturbed him, before her eyes closed, slumping over his corpse in the process. Arthur watched her sadly, before he attempted to touch her once again. This time, he could, so he quickly helped her onto his back and walked towards the entrance of the cave.

He found it odd that Lewis had not come down, then shook his head. It didn't matter. Lewis was safe, he hadn't been pushed off by his hand. He was safe.

Once he was at the entrance of the cave, Arthur gently set Vivi down, suddenly wishing he could wash all that blood from her form, then shook his head again. There was nothing he could do about that; he got her out, and that was enough.

Once she was situated, Arthur backed away until he would not be seen, watching the next set of events unfold.

He watched as Vivi woke up, confused and disoriented, wondering why there was so much blood on her form and what she could have been doing before. He watched as she wandered into the upper cave, only to scream in horror and despair and rush out of the cave and towards the other cave leading to where his corpse was, and for a moment Arthur feared if something happened to Lewis and Mystery (where was the dog anyway?), until he heard a male scream and a howl.

Oh, good, Lewis and Mystery were okay, but how...how did they get down there without him noticing?

It didn't matter. They were all okay. He did it, now he can...

...

...

...

What?

What is this?

Why was he still here?

Why was he not passing on?

** _"It's because we are bound now."_ **

Arthur spun around, his form flickering with golden electricity once more. "Who--" He froze at the owner of the voice behind him.

That was...his face...his body...but there was...so much **green**.

Arthur stared, unable to breathe even though he no longer needed to breathe.

The green him raised an eyebrow.**_ "Surprised?"_**it asked. **_"You shouldn't be human, especially after what you did to the both of us with that stunt you pulled back there. If you had been a good little boy and had given me control, we wouldn't be in this situation!"_**

"What are you..." Arthur couldn't finish speaking.

**_"Tell me boy," _**hissed the green him. **_"What do you think happens to two souls who are sharing the same body when that body dies?"_**

Arthur didn't answer.

**_"They become bound to each other in death. Ah, are you getting the bigger picture?"_** The green him glared at him hatefully. **_"I was planning on having a little fun before I escaped this damned place, but you just had to foil my plans. And now...now, I am stuck again with you, a weak, scrawny, useless, lowly _****human****_!"_**

Arthur stared, unable to respond, especially when he realized that the screams of despair and grief had long since silenced, and footsteps were heard coming his way. Looking that way, he saw Lewis, Vivi, and Mystery, all silent and covered in blood, their faces blank and covered with tears. He said nothing as he spotted his corpse lying limp in the arms of Lewis, as they left the cave, and as the van (the orange van that was his pride and joy) vanished into the night, the sound of the engine fading until only silence remained.

They'll be sad for awhile, but Arthur was positive that they will move on from this. They didn't have to be sad about this forever.

He could cope with that.

Then he frowned. "What you said before," he began, "You said that we are bound."

**_"Yes, I did,"_** said the demon.

"What are you going to do to me now?"

The demon didn't answer at first, but a horrible grin spread out across its (his?) face. **_"You are not so useless to me after all,"_** it said. **_"However, I cannot let you pass on, not when I am so close to freedom. Such a shame, I was hoping to get some fun out of that purple friend of yours before I used your body to escape here."_**

Arthur growled. "I won't let you hurt them."

The demon looked at him, then laughed, another horrible, mocking sound. **_"You really are stupid!"_** mocked the demon. **_"Heh, this won't be so boring after all! I look forward to it, but rest assured mortal, I no longer have an interest in killing your beloved friends now that I have an opportunity to leave, and you will help me whether you like it or not."_**

Arthur flinched. "You--"

What? What was happening?

Why couldn't he--

**_"But first, I have to do a little testing. I hope you don't mind."_** That smile was the last thing Arthur saw before everything went dark. **_"Of course, your opinion is not going to matter either way."_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any questions about my stories, here's my Tumblr link: https://37054ljh.tumblr.com/


	2. The Protector

The night was quiet.

Too quiet.

There was supposed to be a light breeze here (after all it had been there not too long ago), the crickets should’ve been more active, and there was certainly supposed to be no dark sky when it had been starry not too long ago.

That meant her footsteps could be heard from a mile away.

Tears blurring her vision, she ran. She ran even though her legs were burning, threatening to give out under her. She ran even as her lungs burned as badly, begging for her to stop and rest. She ran even as her eyes burned with unshed tears, blurring her vision to where she was exactly running. She ran even as the adrenaline began to wear off, causing her to go slower than she had when she first started.

She had no choice. She had to run. If she stopped, even for a second, she didn’t doubt that those monsters would catch her.

In fact, she could hear them behind her now.

_“She’s over here!”_

_“Get that bitch!”_

_“Come out girly!”_

_“You shouldn’t make this difficult for yourself!”_

_“We only wanna play with ya!”_

Despite her burning lungs, a sob escaped her, depriving her of more oxygen and making her lungs burn more in response. Oh god, _why her?_

Why did this have to happen to her?

All she wanted was to go out, get her much needed groceries, and get home as quickly as she could. She already knew how dangerous her parts of the town were, especially at night time, which was why she went well before dark to go to the grocery store.

_Why the fuck did this have to happen to her?_

Suddenly, her foot caught on something, causing her to weakly cry out in surprise as she fell to the ground, her face coming in contact with the soft and wet earth. Her lungs screamed in agony when what remained of her breath hitched, and she almost began to cough violently.

The ground felt so soft, almost like a bed, saving for the smell of wet earth and the feeling of the dirt and occasional root. She never thought something like the earth would feel like this, and suddenly she realized how tired she was, how much her body ached.

She wanted to rest. She knew she needed to rest. She couldn’t run forever, humans were not built for that...but she couldn’t rest, not with those creeps on her tail!

Hollers were heard from the distance, louder than before, and that brought back the fear. So, as quickly as she could, she got to her feet, desperately praying to a god she didn’t believe in for strength as she continued to run.

But now, as she continued to run, she could hear them getting closer, and their footsteps were louder than before.

_“Stop running girlie!”_

_“Nothing good will come from it!”_

_“You’re only making this more difficult for yourself!”_

Those people were not human, she was sure of it! How could they run for so long without getting tired? No, she already knew the answer to that question.

The basic concept of human beings did not apply to them, and no real human being would try doing this to her, would not have lacked sympathy or even empathy. Only monsters were capable of doing something like this.

Now she could only pray for a miracle. They would have to get tired somehow, or lose interest after chasing her for so long, should they?

_Come on,_ she pleaded. _Come on, come on, come on!_

...Wait, what?

Oh no, no, no no no no no no no no no no!

_Why is she slowing down?!_

She couldn’t be this tired! She can’t be this tired! They were still right behind her!

The monsters sounded louder now, and, with a pounding heart, she knew that they were close.

“We’re getting closer boys!”

“Nowhere to run girlie!”

“We’ve got you cornered!”

“Aw, come on, don’t be like that! We just wanna play with ya!”

“Why don’t you be a good little girl and stop running! Don’t want to make us angry do ya!”

Oh god. Oh _god no!_

If this kept up, she’ll--

_Someone! Please, help me! I can’t keep this up!_

By now the tears were streaming down her cheeks without her consent, blurring her vision even more, and the wind was making them sting horribly. Sobs were bursting from her chest as well, depleting her of more precious oxygen, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

She didn’t want this.

She didn’t want to be raped.

She didn’t want to _die_!

“Please…” she wheezed, barely getting it out of her mouth. “Some...one...help me…!”

The laughter kept going behind her, taking pleasure in her suffering she thought. Not surprising, monsters like them never felt any empathy or thought what they were doing was wrong.

Why did they even exist?!

Why did they have against people like her?!

Suddenly, through her blurry vision, she spotted an opening in the forest she was running in.

What the--An open spot?

What was an open spot doing in a forest?

Against her better judgment, she began to run towards it, and soon spotted something out of place as she got a closer look into the open area.

A...house…?

Hope began to spark in her chest, and she began to run towards it, no longer caring that she was now in plain sight. She ran as fast as her legs would allow towards the building, which was dark, and whose features were obscure thanks to her blurry vision, but she kept going. She no longer heard the monsters behind her, which was odd, but she was not willing to stop and see if they had stopped following her. She was not willing to take any chances.

Maybe the person living in this house could help her.

With a cry, she body-slammed against the door of the house, her heart stopping when she realized the run-down feeling of it. It felt old, abandoned, and suddenly her hope was crushed.

But something was here. She could feel it. Maybe it could help her!

Once again, against her better judgment, she began to pound on the door, sobbing hysterically and out of breath.

“Hello?” she called. “Is anyone there?! Can anyone hear me?! Please, I need help! Please, someone help me!”

Her heart stopped again when she suddenly heard the voices of the men behind her, getting closer and closer.

“Come on girlie, don’t make us angry now! You really don’t want that!”

She sobbed again. “Please,” she whimpered, clawing at the door. “Someone please save me…! I don’t--”

The door suddenly opened, and, with a weak and startled cry, she fell in, the door slamming shut behind her. She landed none too gently on her front, knocking the breath out of her. She choked, coughing and sobbing at the same time until she managed to regain much of her breath. Her heart pounding was the only sound in her ears as she took in her surroundings.

But she couldn’t see anything. She was in total darkness.

She knew she should’ve been afraid...but strangely, she wasn’t. For the first time in hours, she felt...safe, protected, like she was in good hands.

She exhaled a shaky laugh, the tears now tears of relief and happiness as she finally felt the exhaustion hit her.

“Thank...you…” she whispered, the exhaustion finally taking its toll on her shortly after.

After all this, sleep was a welcome relief.

~~~

“God damn it! Where the fuck did that bitch run off to?! She was right in front of us!”

They walked across the open plain that appeared out of nowhere in the forest. That bitch had just been in front of them, with them so close to getting ahold of her, but then, as soon as this plain appeared, she vanished, and there was no trace of her that they could follow.

The leader hissed. And he thought they got themselves some easy but juicy prey.

“Come on!” he hissed to the others. “She couldn’t have gone far. Make sure you check everything!”

He wanted to punch something, or in this case someone, but immediately resisted the urge. He will give the others punishment later for losing one stupid woman. But then again, a game of hide and seek was fun from time to time.

That bitch would pay for putting him through all this trouble.

“Boss, we’ve been running all this time, don’t you think we should just head back?” asked one of his lackeys. “Come on, it’s late, and something’s off about this place.”

“You shut your mouth!” hissed the man, teeth bared. “I’m not going to let one fucking bitch escape my grasp, not when we’re so close!”

“But Boss--”

“I said shut your fucking mouth!” With an animalistic snarl, he slammed his fist into the boy’s mouth, causing blood and a couple teeth to go flying. The little bastard fell to the ground, crying in pain and clutching at his bleeding mouth as he desperately tried to ease the pain. Flexing his aching hand, he turned away. “If you’re too much of a pussy to keep going, go ahead and get eaten by an animal in these mountains. I don’t need another useless bastard like you holding me back.”

He proceeded to walk away, soon spotting a rundown-looking house ahead of him. A smile came to his lips; that bitch thought she was so clever, did she?

Well, that’s too bad. She lost in the end, and he was going to enjoy every moment of agony he planned to force onto her.

As he walked towards the rundown house, he called out.

“Come on out girlie! We know you’re in there, so why don’t you make things easier for yourself and come out! Don’t make me come in there and find you!”

He then stood there, waiting for the rotting door to open (or better yet fall apart), for the woman to make a sound confirming she was in there, a grin on his face as he felt triumph claim him.

But there was no response.

He grit his teeth. That ungrateful little bit--

“What the…? Huh?! _Oh shit, it’s--_” Screams of pain and fear were heard, interrupting him and causing him to spin around quickly.

“What the--” What the fuck? Where did everyone go?

What were they doing?!

He hissed, feeling more irritation boil in him as he turned back to the house. Those useless sacks of shit!

_I guess if you want something to go right, you better do it yourself,_ he thought as he stomped towards the house.

That woman was not getting any mercy from him when he gets his hands on her.

With a growl of anger, he pushed against the door, expecting the rotting piece of wood to cave in as soon as he touched it, like any abandoned houses would. He pushed with all his might, expecting to head in and find the woman.

…

...

...what the fuck?

The door didn’t budge.

Gritting his teeth, he pushed again, only to get the same results. He even slammed his fist against the wood, but despite the loud knock it left, nothing happened.

“What the hell is this?!” he hissed to himself, now grabbing at the dirty doorknob and pulling. It turned slightly, but then he heard a click.

Locked?!

What the fuck was going on here?!

And why did he feel so electrified?!

He pounded on the door, turning at the doorknob with an enraged ferocity. If someone were to see him, he would look like a rabid animal. “Open the door you fucking bitch!” he screamed. “Open this fucking door! Don’t make me come in there and make you regret you were ever born!”

Footsteps were heard behind him, so light that he didn’t hear them at first, and when he did, they stopped. Spinning around, he fully expected to see one of the boys, and was getting ready to hurt them badly for disappearing like fucking idiots, but mostly for interrupting him.

But he froze at what he saw.

What...the hell?

A figure stood in front of him, their features obscured by the dark cloak they were wearing. Other than the cloak, they were wearing all black, and were quite short, much shorter than him. A light wind flew through the area, the first wind in a long while, causing the cloak to flow lightly.

He immediately recognized a goatee on the figure’s chin.

He snarled at him. “Who the fuck are you?!” he yelled.

The figure said nothing, and began to walk closer to him, slow, deliberate steps, almost like…

Like a predator.

What the--When did it get staticy here?

The figure continued to walk closer and closer to him, and even as they did, they were silent, taking their time. Against his wishes, he began to back away, feeling the electricity in the air get worse the closer the figure got.

Why was he so afraid? This was a small-ass person! How could they expect to take him on? Him, a strong, buff man?

Suddenly his back collided with the door of the house, which, even with his weight, held steady, and just as suddenly he was frozen, unable to do anything to get away from the approaching figure.

“G-Get away from me!” he yelled. “Who the fuck are you?!”

The figure didn’t answer, and continued to approach. Then, all of a sudden, they stopped, just when they were about to collide with him. Their head did not move to look up at him, nor did they move again after that.

But that was only for a few seconds.

He watched as the figure slowly lifted up their head to meet his eyes, and he felt his eyes widening when he saw the figure’s own.

They were completely black, saving the glowing gold irises, and they were wide, full of angered electricity.

He knew those eyes!

“Y-You’re--” Suddenly a hand grabbed his face, easily lifting him off the ground. He barely had the chance to scream when sparks of gold appeared in his vision.

Then, all he knew next was a burning pain. Pain so horrible that he couldn’t even scream.

He felt his body crumbling from the inside out, as his blood was fried until nothing was left, and as the pain eventually faded, along with his life.

And even then, all he could feel was pain.

~~~

The body crumbled to dust right in front of him, leaving nothing of the disgusting figure from before. He immediately threw away the dust still in his hand, disgusted before wiping his hands clean of it.

He hated people like this bastard and his lackeys. They didn’t deserve to live after what they tried to do to that poor woman.

“My my, you’re in a bad mood, aren’t you?”

He turned around, not surprised by the voice. The owner, who was behind him, wore the same cloak as him, but different clothing than him. And unlike his orange and gold coloring, the other’s coloring was purely different shades of green, and he was grinning quite maniacally.

“Hello Mordred,” he greeted his bound half, not amused by the question. “What brings you here?”

“You know why I’m here Arthur,” said Mordred, still smiling. “After all, I wanted to see what the commotion was about, as well as who the new guest of honor was going to be.”

Saying nothing, Arthur removed his hood, revealing his human projection, as well as his otherworldly eyes. Eventually that projection faded, revealing a floating jawless skull with hair and eyebrows made purely of golden electricity. Eventually his cloak also faded from existence, showing off his orange-tinted black tailcoat, white short-sleeved shirt, orange tie, black pants, and the matching dress shoes. His otherworldly and skeletal arms crossed in front of his chest, sighing mutely.

“You’ve never had an interest in learning the identity of those people Mordred,” said Arthur, “so why are you taking interest now?”

“Don’t be a fool Arthur, I’ve always been interested in why you continue to interfere with the lives of the living, why you continue to invite several humans to the various balls you host. You know we already get plenty of guests.”

Arthur turned away. “Don’t remind me Mordred.”

Even though he wasn’t looking at him, he could feel the demon raising an eyebrow. “Are you still that sorrowful over what happened?” asked Mordred. “You should’ve had plenty of time to get over it boy.”

Arthur turned back around, feeling his nonexistent eyes burn with tears. “I just want to go home Mordred,” he said. “Why is that so hard for you to understand?”

“Believe me Arthur,” began Mordred, “I couldn’t care less about what you do with your time, especially since you made quite the spectacle out here with those measly humans, but I’m not going to bother repeating myself to you when you make it a habit to deny the truth.”

“Shut up,” hissed Arthur.

“Your words mean nothing Arthur,” said Mordred. “Now, what are you going to do with the woman?”

Arthur looked towards the house, saying nothing for several moments as he instantly teleported to the door, telepathically unlocking it and walking inside. He knew Mordred was waiting patiently outside, and from his current mood, he wouldn’t do anything to the poor girl.

Arthur could only hope that it would stay that way.

It didn’t take long for him to spot the woman in front of him, crumpled up on the floor. Her body was littered with multiple cuts and bruises, her face looked peaceful yet was covered in dried-up tears, her hair was a mess, and there were bags under her eyes. From the looks of it, she was going to be asleep for awhile.

He supposed that was a good thing.

Heading towards her, he gently and easily gathered her up into his arms, her body so limp it was like a ragdoll, and Arthur knew that Mordred had entered the house at this point, not even fazed by the fact that the house began to morph into a magnificent and lavish mansion, its interior having the appearance of something one would see in a fantasy movie, with its walls shining with pure gold and sunrise orange, extravagant furniture, and so much more.

Then chirps were heard.

Looking up, Arthur saw electrical little ghosts appearing before him. They were beings made purely of electrical energy, almost like little blobs but with comical eyes and faces. They were dark orange in color, with solid purple or blue eyes and barely visible mouths, and had stumped arms that made them look adorable.

“Hello everyone,” he greeted. “Could you please get a room ready? She’s our new guest of honor.”

The little ghosts, ghosts he called Electrobeats due to their electrical natures, chirped again and disappeared in a flash of electricity. A moment later, footsteps were heard behind him, and Arthur glanced back to see Mordred smiling at him.

“I see,” he said, as if Arthur just answered some unspoken question. “Well, we have a party to prepare for, partner. Let’s get ready.”

Yes, they did. Arthur could already feel their guests approaching.

Now he needs to get this woman situated before the party started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any questions about my stories, here’s my Tumblr link: https://37054ljh.tumblr.com/


	3. Hanging On

…

…

Wait…

What was that?

She listened carefully, despite wanting to return to the world of slumber, wanting to identify the annoying yet strangely familiar sounds coming next to her bed. They sounded like birds, but at the same time, something else.

Not to mention the birds were always quiet at her house thanks to the walls separating them, so why--

…

Hold on.

This wasn’t her bed.

Her bed did not feel this silky, this...luxurious. And her room did not smell like some kind of flower and champagne.

This time, she opened her eyes, and the first thing she saw was the canopy above her. It was bright orange in color, sparkled in whatever light there was in the room, and it surrounded her bed.

No, this wasn’t her bed.

She gasped, sleep finally escaping her as she looked at her surroundings. Everything was obscure thanks to the canopy surrounding the large circular bed, a bed that appeared big enough to hold about seven people, maybe more, but she was able to see lamps that contained candles, candles that burned with a strange orange fire, causing the canopy to sparkle gold.

W...Where was she? Why was she here? And how did she get--

Wait.

Oh, that’s right.

She was being chased, all while she was heading back home. She had run through the forest surrounding her hometown--for how long she didn’t know--and had come across an open area that contained a single, abandoned house. She remembered falling through the door, which slammed shut behind her, and then feeling safe, despite how dark the room was and how fast her heart pounded against her.

The fear began to creep in again. Oh god, had she been captured? Did those monsters manage to get their hands on her, and they were only giving her a false sense of security to make whatever was going to happen to her more painful?

Just as she was beginning to panic, the canopy was pulled apart, and she jumped to attention.

...Wait, what?

Staring back at her with strange magenta eyes and a matching star-shaped design on its chest, was a little...blob? Well, not a blob, but something that appeared to have come out of a cartoon, with its solid eyes, comic-like mouth, stubby arms, and overall appearance.

A...ghost…?

The little thing, seeing that she was awake, smiled and chirped, very similar to the sound she heard earlier, and before she knew it, the drapes were pulled back even more, revealing the room she was in.

She gaped, unable to help herself. The bedroom looked like something you would see from a science-fantasy movie for all she knew, with its golden floors, walls, and ceiling, the large windows showing the night and forest outside, the flaming orange candles, the dining table, and even the closet.

Subconsciously, she looked down at herself, finding that she was no longer covered in bruises or cuts, and she was dressed in a fine orange nightgown that seemed to be made of pure silk and hugged her figure perfectly. As she stared, she almost did not hear a pair of footsteps approaching her bed.

Startled, she looked up, seeing a beautiful woman with dark curly hair, porcelain skin, and dark eyes. She was wearing a Victorian-styled dress that was also dark in color, white gloves, and a dark choker necklace.

If the woman noticed her stares, she ignored them as she spoke.

“Hurry along Miss,” she said, her voice thick with a British accent. “The ball will be starting soon, and you must look your best.”

She was quickly ushered out of bed without another word, though as she was being led to the closet, her mouth began to move.

“W-Who are you?” she asked. “What ball? And why am I here?”

The woman didn’t turn to her while she was in the process of opening the closet, but she answered, “My name is of no importance Miss,” she said. “You may merely call me The Woman. As for why you are here, one of the Masters has saved you, and you are to be the guest of honor for tonight’s ball.”

With the closet door open, she saw what was inside. She didn’t even hear herself gasp, for all the dresses within the closet were, for lack of a better word, _out of this world_. They were so luxurious and beautiful, and immediately she didn’t even want to touch them out of fear that she would soil them. The Woman did not pay her any attention as she looked through each of the dresses and shoes, clicking her teeth when she didn’t find one that matched her standards.

Finally, she found one, and she immediately rushed her towards the lavish vanity table nearby. “Hurry and get dressed Miss,” The Woman ushered hurriedly. “We mustn’t be late. Master Mordred is not a patient man, and our guests do not like waiting either.”

“Who--” But The Woman was gone again before she could ask anymore questions, and that left her to stare that the gown that was given to her.

It was ivory white in color, had no sleeves, and was silky to the touch. It sparkled unnaturally under the candlelight, and it didn’t even matter if she moved or not. She found herself staring, unable to look away, much less to even touch it. She was hesitant too, like if she did, she would destroy that piece of elegant fabric.

The Woman returned, clicking her tongue when she didn’t see her dressed. “Hurry along Miss!” she hissed, grabbing the dress and throwing it to her. “We do not have time to waste!”

“A-Ah--!” She flinched, stunned that the dress was forced into her hands. “O-Of course!”

She immediately changed out of the nightgown, flinching when she felt it hit the floor, despite the floor being squeaky clean. She then tried to ignore The Woman’s scrutinizing eyes on her as she stripped herself, then, before she knew it, The Woman was forcing her into the dress, her movements quick, experienced, and precise, smoothing out any wrinkles made from the previous movements.

Once the dress was situated, The Woman moved behind her to fasten the zipper before grabbing some long white gloves and putting them on her. Then, she was moved to the mirror, sitting limply as her hair was brushed, perfume was sprayed on her chest, lavender eyeshadow was dappled on her eyelids, and her face was cleaned until no flaw remained. When the Woman was finally finished, she barely recognized herself.

It was like...she was a whole different person.

Then, she was rushed to her feet, which were placed in heeled white shoes.

“Hurry along Miss!” ordered The Woman, who then proceeded to rush her out the door. “The ball awaits, we must not be late!”

She wasn’t given any time to respond before she was rushed out of the door and into the hallway, nor was she given any time to admire the beauty of the entire thing before she was rushed through the mansion.

~~~

Outside the mansion, which glowed a warm golden orange, the guests arrived by the masses.

All were dressed in their finest, glowing with a vibrant aura that would tell any passing bystander that they were not human. In fact, some of the guests were quite small, only able to travel at the pace of their bigger counterparts by the wings on their backs. There were bigger ones too, their wings large and sparkling with various colors depending on the guest, while others could either pass as human or were quite terrifying in appearance.

They all entered the mansion, and none paid attention to the fact that there was no one to greet them. That was to be expected, and they were more focused on reaching the ballroom that housed that beautiful, golden, pure soul.

A soul that invited them to a ball.

Oh, how delightful.

Such a shame that they could never touch it the way they wanted to, not with the other master of this house keeping a close eye on them.

A darker soul, not as delightful, but quite powerful, and something they did not want to provoke.

They all walked through the hallways, speaking amongst each other in jovial tones, walking with a grace that further solidified their inhuman natures. Eventually, they arrived at the doors leading to the ballroom, which slowly opened as they all approached, revealing the beautiful and luxurious room within.

The ballroom, a room with golden floors, walls, and ceiling with hints of green, was decorated with bright orange curtains on the walls, had a chandelier above that contained candles that burned with orange fire, and contained a dais located on the other side of the room, showing a coffin that was rimmed with orange and traces of gold.

Sometimes there would be another coffin, one that was rimmed with green, but it wasn’t here right now.

They eagerly walked down the staircase to the floor below, finding that music was already playing for them even though no one was there for dance to it at the moment. It didn’t matter though, that was going to change shortly.

Eventually they all were on the floor, watching as little wisps with either magenta or blue eyes and a star on their chests appeared and flew around the room, floating throughout the room as a ghostly orchestra appeared near the dais, playing beautiful music that no mortal could resist.

They didn’t hesitate to begin dancing.

With their unearthly grace and fluidity, they danced among themselves, with the partners they brought to the ball, and others, sometimes forming a four-square group to dance with. They knew which times to perform a certain move in the songs they were dancing to, how fast they should dance, and even the best appearances for it.

For some of the guests, depending on the type of song they danced to, their appearances would either change color, their outfit, or their overall face, body, and skin types. No other guest paid much attention to this, as this was normal in their world, and continued to dance.

This dance was all that mattered to them.

Well, that, and what was about to happen.

Slowly, the music stopped, and suddenly, in the place of the orchestra, a group of ghosts appeared on the dais, each different from the last.

Ah yes, a couple of the mansion’s occupants, each of whom resided in paintings located deeper in the mansion, the area they were never allowed to go. It was also the last place many of the more rebellious of guests were last seen, and once they went down there, they were never heard from again.

No doubt the darker entity was responsible.

Not that they cared.

Of the ghosts, there was a refined gentleman with pointed gray hair, a sharp face, and just as sharp dark suit with a white collar and a dark red gem in the middle. His eyes were dark and intense, very fitting of his title; The Judge.

The man next to The Judge was taller and much broader, in fact he lived up to his name quite well, with his flamboyant mask, his shirtless tanned muscular upper torso, and the stance he was positioned in: The Wrestler.

The final man with them was shorter than both The Judge and the Wrestler, but only by a few inches for the former. His hair was brown and curly, he wore dark robes with a golden tint, dark shoes, and carried around a Bible. It wouldn’t take much to guess who he was: The Priest.

And The Woman, the beautiful woman with ivory skin, curly purple hair, dark eyes, and wearing the most extravagant of dresses and accessories, was nowhere to be seen.

But the guests weren’t concerned. She would be appearing soon, if what they were thinking was correct.

As if awaiting to be thought of, the doors leading to the ballroom opened, and the person they were just thinking about stepped inside, walking gracefully towards the grand staircase and overlooking the ballroom. All watched her every move, watching as she opened her mouth.

“Everyone,” she began, her voice echoing throughout the room, speaking of elegance, power, and beauty, and she then began to float down the staircase and towards the dais, stopping in front of her fellow ghosts, “make way for tonight’s guest of honor!”

All turned back towards the staircase, watching as a human female timidly walked through the doors and towards the staircase, dressed in a fine dress that only this mansion could produce. She glowed in the light of the room, all thanks to the effects of this mansion.

The guests continued to watch as she began to walk down the stairs, clearly not the most graceful of creatures, and some clicked their tongues at this, but her glowing soul made up for it. It wasn’t as beautiful and alluring as the soul of one of the masters of this mansion, and the temporary protection charm that was placed on her prevented some of the more bloodthirsty ones from getting their hands on her.

Quite disappointing.

Eventually, the human woman stopped in the middle of the dance floor, clearly from the effect of the mansion, staring up at the dais with wide, wondrous eyes.

Ah, it seemed she sensed it too.

“Now,” continued The Woman, turning to the object above the dais, “make way for our master, the beautiful, dazzling, and radiant Man of Lightning!”

In response to The Woman’s announcement, all the guests watched with barely-contained excitement as the coffin up on the dais slowly slid open, revealing the ghost within. They were wearing a penguin-tailed suit, complete with a short-sleeved white shirt underneath, an orange bow-tie, a magenta and blue-laced star pin pinned to the left side of the suit, tailored black pants, and sharp black shoes.

Of course, all of this was obscured by the cloak he was wearing.

As soon as the coffin’s doors stopped moving, the ghost, whose arms had been crossed in front of his chest, lowered until they were by his sides, and he began to walk out, stopping just on the staircase of the dais. He looked over all the guests slowly, then his covered eyes looked at the guest-of-honor.

The Man of Lightning seemed to smile, despite there being no jaw or skin for a smile to be seen, and without further ado, he removed his cloak.

The hood fell back easily, revealing the floating jawless skull of the ghost, and he then removed the rest of the cloak, which disappeared into sparks of golden shards of light before it could hit the floor. Then, without another word, he began to walk down the stairs and towards the guest-of-honor, lightning temporarily surrounding his figure before golden irises appeared in his eye-sockets and the golden electricity formed gravity-defying hair, thick eyebrows, and a black strand of hair.

As soon as he stepped off the dais, the orchestra reappeared, but did not move to start playing their instruments again, at least, not right away.

Finally, as the Man of Lightning began to approach the human woman, the magic of the manor causing her to move.

That was the thing about this mansion, anyone who came in as a guest-of-honor would look deep into their souls to find a trait about them that not even they knew about, then bring it to light. The other guests watched the woman carefully, watching as the magic began to take its control.

Her body began to move on its own, creating sensual movements and a seductive gracefulness that she had not possessed before, and now, her face was confident, sure, and ready for whatever ride the Man of Lightning would take her on.

He didn’t disappoint.

The pair began to circle each other, just as the music began to start back up. None of the guests moved to start dancing again in favor of the pair before them, and they watched as the Man of Lightning’s face, as his body changed to his human projection.

Ah yes, his appearance of when he was alive. Such a shame. They would’ve loved to claim him for themselves if he were still among the living.

Of course, he did look alive, but if it weren’t for the ribs clinging to his sides, just above his suit, his darkened and skeletal arms, and his otherworldly eyes, no one, except for those in the unseen world, could see it.

No surprise crossed the guest-of-honor’s face, in fact, she appeared happy, in awe even, but that was the mansion’s effect.

Eventually, the Man of Lightning guided the human towards him, and she didn’t resist in any way. In fact, she appeared to have melted into his embrace, pressing herself up to him eagerly, all while keeping her eyes on his face.

It truly was astonishing, the dances that humans invented and perfected. Especially the one that the Man of Lightning was guiding the woman in thanks to the call of her soul, a dance where she could not keep her hands off him, or the Man of Lightning with her.

A dance of intimate lovers, huh?

How sensual.

They were so balanced, so graceful, and so sure of their movements, trusting each other with their every move, never-mind the fact that they did not know each other. Of course, it wasn’t like it was going to matter, the Man of Lightning was always a soul they would love to watch for all of eternity.

Even if it was with another human. Only the most privileged could hope to dance with the Man of Lightning, and it didn’t matter if they themselves tried to dance with him; he would always find ways to evade them, no matter how cunning, fast, or agile the guest.

The music got faster and more intense and sensual as the pair continued to dance with each other, the skirt of the human’s dress flowing beautifully with her every move, while the Man of Lightning presented himself in a just as graceful light, which caused orbs and shards of orange and golden light to fly around them and throughout the ballroom, even around the guests, the four resident ghosts, and the blob ghosts dancing near the ceiling.

All inhaled the air, touching the shards, and felt the purity and power of that pure soul.

Such beauty. They really wanted that soul for themselves, a soul that they would never have.

How tantalizing.

Of course, the Man of Lightning and the guest-of-honor paid no mind to the lights, and just focused on their dance. They performed moves that the human wouldn’t know how to perform without the manor’s influence, and she still had that confident and sure aura about her that was so different from the timid mouse she was only minutes before.

How many minutes had passed?

They didn’t care. They could watch this forever for all they cared.

Then, their dance got slower, sadder, and hesitant.

The guests wanted to roar in rage and despair. Oh no, not now, not right now, it couldn’t be over!

They didn’t want to leave, not right now! Not ever!

But there is was, the first light of dawn, peeking in through the windows.

Finally, the Man of Lightning and his dance partner stopped, the former with a small smile, the latter with the same despair the other guests were feeling. Except that was where their similarities ended.

She knew what this meant for her, and it was a despair unlike theirs.

But they didn’t care.

Then, the Man of Lightning pressed a small, light kiss to the human’s head, then slowly stepped away from her. She held onto him for as long as she could, then their fingers separated, and she was left with no choice but to gracefully curtsy before him, watching as he, the guests, and the other ghosts faded from her sight.

It was so infuriating, that time had to pass, that time even existed, but they knew they had a next time. The same could not be said for the woman, as she was left to lament over the fact that she would not be so lucky, ducking her head in sorrow, and then, finally, returning to the world of unconsciousness from before she awoke.

It was quite disappointing, but it wasn’t going to matter.

There was always next time.

~~~

She laid there for a good few minutes or so before he returned, back to wearing his cloak, and staring down at her with tired eyes that silently shed orange tears. He was still in his human projection, but it won’t be long now before that changes.

“Again?” Mordred’s voice was heard behind him, then the sound of footsteps approaching from behind. “You have done this so many times Arthur, and you still cry over this?”

“Be quiet Mordred,” hissed Arthur. “You know nothing.”

Mordred scoffed. “Oh, but I do, unfortunately for you.” The demon moved from behind him and into Arthur’s sight, and from here he could see that the former’s smile was gone. “It’s been almost a year, Arthur, and you still cannot bring yourself to accept your situation?”

Arthur slumped. “You know the reason Mordred,” he said. “Just go away.”

“Do not be a fool Arthur; sadly for you, I am not in your head, and I am not in yours. However, we are still bound whether you like it or not thanks to what you did.”

Arthur glared at him, not caring about the tears that continued to trail down his cheeks. “If I hadn’t done what I did, you would’ve killed them!”

Mordred raised a mocking eyebrow. “Still hung up over that, aren’t you?” His voice did not sound condescending anymore, but that did nothing to ease Arthur, especially when the demon rubbed his nasal ridge. “Honestly, I thought we agreed that we both need each other’s help, whether we like it or not.”

Arthur turned away. “Why can’t you just let me go home?” he demanded weakly.

“This again? You know you can’t keep doing this forever Arthur!”

“And why not?!”

The tears now became rivers as they fell down his cheeks at a quicker rate, but his vision did not blur. That simply wasn’t possible anymore, but that didn’t mean the pain itself went away. In fact, Arthur could feel his anchor crack again, creating the wound that had healed only months ago. Now, it went from its beautiful magenta and blue-rimmed coloring to a disgusting, sickly green.

Green. How he hated that color.

Arthur then heard Mordred sigh in exasperation and irritation, but he did not turn to face him anymore. He was done talking to him for today, or rather the rest of the week, but, knowing Mordred, the demon would not allow that to stay that way for long.

However, he soon heard the sound of footsteps walking away.

“Fine then,” Mordred said with a growl, “continue acting this way. I’m already unfortunate that I have to deal with you for probably the rest of our afterlife, but I’m in no mood to pass on Arthur, not when we still have so much to do. Sooner or later, and I’m hoping that it’s soon, you will understand what I mean.”

Arthur kept silent, even though he wanted to scream at Mordred that he would never understand, that he doesn’t want to understand. What else was there to understand, when he had almost made him kill his own best friend (<strike>And the man he loved</strike>), and maybe hurt his other best friend (<strike>The woman he loved</strike>) and his favorite canine friend?

He kept silent even as those words ached to come out of his mouth, even as Mordred walked away, leaving him alone in the nearly empty ballroom, which felt bigger without all those guests to fill it.

That was to be expected, but still...he hated this silence.

But it was better than Mordred’s company, that’s for sure.

Looking down to the unconscious woman, Arthur made up his mind and walked towards her, his electrobeats appearing next to him in the process, floating towards the woman.

He had work to do, and this would be good for him.

He had to make sure the woman was returned to her home without any issue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you wish to scream at me, here’s my Tumblr link: https://37054ljh.tumblr.com/


	4. Faded

It didn’t take much to find where the woman lived.

A small apartment complex located on the fourth floor, with the interior being simple, if not slightly messy and ordinary looking. He gently placed her body on her bed, having since changed her out of her dress and back into her ordinary clothes, and after making sure she was comfortable, Arthur left, easily making sure that he wasn’t seen by others.

It became easier after so many months of practice, and Arthur could only be disappointed that nothing has changed.

A chirp was heard beside him, and Arthur glanced at one of his electrobeats, specifically one that had a blue star and blue eyes looking at him sadly. Their tiny hand caressed his cheekbone, trying to wipe away the newly formed orange tears. Arthur could only stare back hopelessly as they continued to float back towards the forest, the current location of the mansion.

Arthur smiled weakly at the electrobeat as they continued on their way before looking forward, a sad frown returning.

“How long has it been?” he asked, voice somber. “How long has it been since this all started? Has it really been a year? Or was it much longer than that? I can’t bring myself to care anymore.” He looked at the electrobeat. “Tell me, is that really a bad thing?”

The electrobeat only chirped sadly, and Arthur could only smile sadly in return.

“Of course. I always hoped you would never have to understand.”

And he didn’t. He really, really didn’t. While his electrobeats might be weaker ghosts who latched onto him because of his more powerful soul, he could never bring himself to tell them the truth, even though he had a strong feeling that they already did. They were, after all, a part of him, and his only companions besides Mordred, but Arthur didn’t want to count the demon as a companion despite them being bound.

Eventually, he stopped and allowed his feet to touch the ground, looking up at the trees. Birds chirped without a care, and the sun barely managed to shine on the ground through the trees’ thick canopy. Arthur sighed, pulling his cloak’s hood over his eyes while sitting down against the nearest tree.

He slid down the bark, feeling nothing, and eventually he laid his head against the lowest branch of the tree, staring at the dark soil under him. His electrobeats chirped with concern.

“I’m pathetic, aren’t I?” he asked them, smiling wryly. “I was fully prepared to pass on, even spend the rest of my afterlife stuck like this, and yet…” He inhaled shakily. “Yet, I want to go home. I want to go home so badly, and yet Mordred won’t let me. I can’t understand why, but I want to see them again, just once.”

The electrobeats chirped sadly, looking at him with sorrow. Arthur looked away, unable to bear the sight of those expressions, and tears once more silently sailed down his cheekbones without his consent. He was always crying, he thought, and even the slightest bit of sadness would cause an endless stream of tears to come.

That was one of the things he was glad about for being a ghost: he couldn’t run out of tears.

Though, he also considered it a bad thing.

No numbness, no relief, only continued sadness and unearthly tears. Arthur wanted to see Lewis and Vivi, and even Mystery so, so badly. He wondered how they were doing. Were they doing okay? How were they coping with his death?

Hopefully they were alright. After all, they were better off without him anyway. All he did was get in their way, weigh them down, and even almost killed them. All he was was poison, and they were better off without him because of it.

And yet...he wanted to see them again, if only once.

Arthur hated that. He hated it so, so much.

Why, after all this time, was he still thinking about wanting to be with them the way they were with each other?

It was wrong to think like that, and Lewis and Vivi had made it perfectly clear that it wouldn’t work before the two even got together.

He couldn’t love them both. It was wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong!

The electrobeats chirped again, and when Arthur looked up again, a couple were floating to both sides of him, their stubby arms grabbing his fingers and lifting him up from the tree. They didn’t let go though, and continued to float around him, their hands still grasping at his fingers.

Arthur immediately knew what they were doing.

Without any resistance, Arthur allowed them to lead his movements, and even listened as the other electrobeats created instruments from their auras, ranging from a violin and a harp, with one even sounding like a ticking clock, and soon they began to play, lightly at first, but enough to get a rhythm going.

The electrobeats leading him did so lightly, and Arthur followed their lead, allowing them to lead him at first, but as soon as the music got slightly more intense, Arthur had them let go while he danced to himself, his movements feeling they were his own but at the same time not.

Ever since he became a ghost, Arthur realized that dancing had come to him more naturally than it had when he had been alive. Of course, he had danced quite a few times when he had been alive, but no one besides Uncle Lance knew about it. He had been too self-conscious to really speak of it or do it in public, so he figured the best way to go about it would be to do it when no one was watching.

But ever since he died, that had changed. Arthur wondered if it was because of his need to drain himself ever since learning he and Mordred were bound.

While the electrobeats continued playing the music, which sounded bittersweet in tone, Arthur found that he was moving in a way that was telling a story he didn’t want anyone else to see, especially when he took the dance towards the ground.

He sometimes would position his arms in a wing-like position, sometimes stand on his tiptoes, and gracefully move about the forest floor. He wondered what he must’ve looked like to his companions, especially as the music began to grow darker and darker, and his dance going slower and slower.

Arthur thought back to the day he died once more, as he remembered the unnatural coldness of Mordred’s possession overtaking his left arm, the slip of control, and soon running off the cavern’s cliff to save Lewis. He remembered the falling, then the lost of consciousness, and then...then…

Vivi…

Oh god Vivi…

Arthur wondered how he looked to her, mangled, bloodied, impaled, _dying_. He had been so delirious, so in pain, that he could barely even remember what her name was, what Lewis’ name was, or even _his own name_, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t regret what he did, he would never regret saving Lewis or taking away that memory of him from Vivi. Vivi didn’t need that memory of him, what happened to him wasn’t her fault, it never was her or Lewis’ fault.

Things were better this way.

Eventually, as the electrobeats’ song became sorrowful, Arthur stopped dancing, realizing that he was laying down in the dirt, sprawled in it in such a way that he felt dead. Truly, truly dead.

Ironic though, since he was already dead. He couldn’t die again. He had already committed that deed.

Orange tears seeped into the dirt, though eventually they turned into shards of light that eventually faded from existence. Arthur watched them numbly and indifferently, having long since gotten used to the sight, and got to his knees, mutely watching the tears hit the dirt before turning into light shards and then nothingness.

Chirps were heard once more, and Arthur looked at his electrobeats, finding that their instruments were gone now, and they were back to glancing at their master with sadness.

He smiled woefully at them. “I’m fine,” he said, despite not believing the words. “At least, I will be in a little while.” He then stood up, pulling up his cloak’s hood once more. “We should go back, don’t want to listen to Mordred complaining again.”

The electrobeats chirped with agreement, and without another word, they all began to float back towards the mansion, the numbness following them through it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so short, I wanted to get this done before I have to get started on my first day of work tonight. When you have flexible scheduling, are doing a job that is not exactly your forte, and are slightly autistic, even the first day on the job is intimidating. Oh well, I better get used to it quickly so I can keep myself busy this holiday. Anyway, the dance Arthur performed is based on Duncan McDowall’s PAINTED video, though the dancer is female.
> 
> It’s an emotional dance though, so if anyone’s interested, go check it out through this link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pd2KM3qjcKk


	5. Shatter Me

Her smile greeted him first. “Welcome back Master Arthur,” greeted Elizabeth, the painting ghost who, to others, was known only as The Woman.

Arthur nodded back to her. “Thank you Elizabeth.” With his electrobeats following him, he began to float away towards his room.

Elizabeth walked next to him, getting the message. “Would you like the other ghosts to prepare a bath Master Arthur?” she asked.

“I can get it,” Arthur reassured her. “Thank you.”

The both of them were silent for several moments as they continued down the hallways of the mansion. The entirety of the hallway seemed to be infinite, with the walls a rich mahogany, the floors a flawless path of gold, and the ceiling containing the occasional chandelier with candles that burned with orange and at times gold flames.

The beauty of the mansion meant nothing to Arthur.

“Are you alright Master?” asked Elizabeth. “You seemed troubled.”

Even though he wasn’t wearing his human projection, Arthur smiled somberly. “It’s just me being me,” he said. “Don’t worry about it, Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth frowned at him sadly. “Have you had another argument with Master Mordred again?” she then asked. “He didn’t seem like he was in a particularly good mood earlier after the ball.”

Arthur mutely sighed. “It’s always over the same thing,” he said. “I don’t expect him to understand anything, much less try to sympathize with me. I just fail to understand why he won’t allow me to just...at least…”

Elizabeth nodded in understanding, and said nothing else as they finally arrived to the bedroom door, which opened by itself. The room within was large, large enough to fit about five people, and it was a room that contained the colors orange and gold, except more prominent in shade than outside. Shards of light floated about the room, either fading from or into existence, which created beads of light throughout, almost like a disco ball of sorts.

The furniture in the room was also spectacular, with the bright orange love-seats located near the left of the door and a medium-sized rectangular coffee table in the middle of them, a large maroon and gold-rimmed rug underneath them, a large Alaskan king-sized circular bed that contained the matching bright orange sheets and pillows in the furthest right corner, a window located across from them that overlooked the woods outside, elegant dark orange drapes that were currently pulled apart, shelves upon shelves of books about engineering, robotics, and mechanics, and even a work desk that appeared out of place with how old and worn it looked.

Mordred always demanded that Arthur get rid of it, that it had no place in their “home”, but Arthur refused every time.

Arthur nodded to Elizabeth. “Thank you again Elizabeth,” he said, smiling even though she couldn’t really see it. “I really appreciate it.”

Elizabeth smiled warmly at him. “Of course Master Arthur. Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Of course. Thank you again.”

Elizabeth left the room after that, closing the door behind her gently. Once she was gone, Arthur felt himself sag in exhaustion. His coffin was hidden in the room, next to the bed, but he didn’t want to charge up anymore right now.

So, without another word, Arthur floated and collapsed onto the bed, curling up onto his side and letting his mind wander. His electrobeats chirped sadly once more before they disappeared into his anchor, causing it to glow a slight gold before receding.

Arthur stared at it numbly, then looked back into the sheets, watching as the shards of light created moving parts on them before disappearing.

Then he looked at the work desk.

It looked so similar to the one he had at home in Uncle Lance’s shop.

Uncle Lance…

How was his uncle doing? Arthur hoped the older man was handling what happened okay, and wondered what he could be doing right now. Lance Kingsmen was always a gruff and tough man, but he was willing to take in his nephew and raise him as if he were his own son. To Arthur, Lance was more of a father to him than his biological one.

It hurt, thinking about how Lance could be moving on without him.

Arthur knew that his death would hurt Lance, and he would be all alone now that his only family was gone. He hated doing that to the old man, but sadly it was over and done with. He had been prepared to leave Lance alone when he died, for just knowing that he died to save Lewis, Vivi, and Mystery was enough for him, and he had hoped that Lance would come to understand that.

But now? Arthur wasn’t sure what to think.

He wanted to go home. He wanted to keep working at his uncle’s mechanic shop, keep coming up with new things that would always boggle Uncle Lance, and even stay with Lewis and Vivi, even if it was only from afar.

Arthur hated this. He hated this so much.

Tears began to fall again, and he watched numbly as the drops landed on the sheets, soon disappearing from existence.

“I’m so sorry, Uncle Lance,” he whispered, voice heavy with regret. “I’m so, so sorry.”

He kept repeating that for awhile longer.

~~~

…

…

…

…

…

...wait…

what the…

Arthur blearily opened his eye-sockets, realizing that he was not in his coffin. Instead, he was on his bed, curled up into a fetal position.

When did he fall asleep?

Arthur sat up, wondering if his electrical hair, which sparked to life now, was shooting up exhausted sparks in response to his own exhaustion. It always felt so weird, that even though he no longer needed sleep, he could still feel exhaustion.

Another tear fell, and Arthur didn’t even notice.

“Master Arthur?”

The feminine voice made Arthur turn around, and looking at him from the darkness of the room, obscured from any normal eyes, was Elizabeth.

“Oh, hello Elizabeth,” Arthur greeted, getting off the bed. “How long have I been asleep?”

“About four hours Master,” the painting ghost answered. “I didn’t want to wake you since you were tired, but I have come to tell you that the grand bath is ready, and the others are in there waiting for us.”

The bath was ready...oh shit.

“Please tell me you didn’t wait long,” Arthur pleaded.

“Not at all,” Elizabeth answered with an easy-going chuckle. “You should know, Master Arthur, that the grand bath’s water is always the right temperature, and the other residents of this manor are always eager to stay in the bath for as long as they can.”

Arthur couldn’t help but chuckle in return, even though his was more nervous than Elizabeth’s. “Ah, of course,” he said. He floated further away from the bed, brushing off any nonexistent dust, and looked at the female ghost. “Well, let’s go.”

“Of course Master Arthur.”

~~~

The grand bath was a large room, located deep in the mansion, likely in the middle if Arthur was looking at this correctly. The deep part of the mansion was known to the creatures outside the mansion as the place they were never allowed to go into, though the reason why was never clarified, if they even cared to find out. Of course, Arthur always assumed the reason was because it was the “living” space of the spirits, but he wasn’t entirely sure.

Though, like all the supernatural spirits who either lived in or visited this mansion, they didn’t care enough to find out, and Arthur was among them, surprisingly.

At this point, Elizabeth was stripped from her dress, gloves, and jewelry, which vanished the moment they arrived near the room. The room next to the grand bath served as a changing room, containing wooden walls, many lockers, antique three fold dressing screens that ranged between different colors and styles, and even saunas that differed depending on the kind. For example, there was one sauna that was completely made of wood and involved using hot rocks and water, another that used electricity to produce steam, and even an infrared sauna meant for heat therapy.

Of course, not very many of the resident ghosts used the locker room or the dressing screens, coming to view them as decorations since they can make their clothing disappear at will. Hell, even Mordred didn’t want to add them, though Arthur had insisted in case they had any guests that decided to stay for more than one day. Until then, Mordred had no choice but to agree, begrudgingly of course.

Arthur suddenly wondered if Mordred would be in the grand bath too. He really didn’t want to see him right now, but then took a deep breath even though he didn’t need one and just decided that he needed to face the music, no matter how much he hated it.

His clothes also gone and having switched to his human projection, Arthur followed Elizabeth into the grand bath, and the first thing that greeted him was the steam. Once it cleared slightly, he was able to see the room.

The room was much, much larger than the changing room, and almost every other room in the mansion, with golden marble tile floors, a tall ceiling, the doors leading to the changing room surrounding it under the protruding walls that were supported by thick amber buttresses, the walls themselves being a warm brown color with some dark green mixed in, and the ceiling itself containing a chandelier with glowing orange orbs. The walls also contained lights that were supported on dark brown sculptures of angels or demons and which glowed either orange or a light green depending on where one looked.

Meanwhile, in the middle of the room, was a large rectangular-shaped white marble bath, large enough that it almost overtook the entire middle of the room. At the other end of the fountain was a tall white marble statue of the Greek god Poseidon, who held his trident in a pose of victory while his other hand rested on a barrel, the latter of which was pouring water into the bath itself, water that would be recycled and cleaned supernaturally over and over as long as the mansion existed.

And in the bath already was…

“Elizabeth, Master Arthur! There you two are! What took you so long?”

Arthur looked that way, and spotted Antonio, the painting ghost who was simply known to outsiders as The Wrestler, waving at them, his mask off to reveal his bald and scarred face. If it weren’t for the fact that an easy-going and happy expression was on his face, Arthur would be willing to bet that people would mistake Antonio for a hardened man.

Of course, Arthur did not know much about the other man’s past when he was alive, except that he was (obviously) a wrestler.

“Hello Antonio,” greeted Elizabeth warmly, moving to get into the bath and swim near them. She then turned to the other two painting ghosts. “Joseph, Martin.”

Joseph and Martin, The Judge and The Priest respectively, nodded back. “Hello Elizabeth,” greeted Joseph. He then looked up at Arthur. “Please Master Arthur, join us. The water is perfect.”

“It’s always perfect hombre!” said Antonio. “That’s one of the best things about this house!”

“I’m aware, Antonio,” Joseph replied with an annoyed eye twitch. “I was simply being hospitable to one of our masters.”

Arthur couldn’t hold back a snort, drawing the two men’s attention. Immediately shaking his head, he got into the water, waving to them. “Sorry, sorry,” he said, desperately trying to not burst out laughing. “You two always look like bickering siblings that I couldn’t help but chuckle.”

Joseph and Antonio blinked, then looked at each other and back to Arthur.

Arthur sighed. “Never mind,” he said. “Forget I ever said anything.” He then buried himself into the water, probably looking like a turtle to the people looking at him.

Elizabeth frowned at him sadly before glaring in Joseph and Antonio’s direction. “An understanding would’ve helped, boys,” she scolded with a slight hiss.

Despite themselves, both men flinched. “Sorry Master,” said Antonio. “Didn’t mean to make you sad, honest.”

“I apologize for my behavior,” added Joseph.

“No, no, it’s not you guys,” Arthur said, pulling the lower half of his face from the water. “It’s just that…” He couldn’t say anything else.

All four painting ghosts were looking at him sadly at this point. Martin looked into the water, shaking his head in disappointment. “It was Master Mordred, wasn’t it?” he asked.

Arthur said nothing.

Martin turned to Elizabeth. “Can you tell us what happened earlier? After the ball.”

“I can’t say much,” Elizabeth answered. “However, Master Mordred and Master Arthur had another fight I assume, because Master Arthur was still upset when he got back from taking the guest of honor back to her home.”

Martin shook his head again. “That foolish mad man,” he mused, voice full of disappointment. “I will never understand why he can’t empathize with others. It truly is no wonder he’s a demon in body and mind.”

“Priest!” scolded Joseph. “Don’t say that! Master Mordred may be nearby!”

“Oh let him be hombre,” said Antonio. “He’s not even here right now, and won’t be back for awhile. He told us that himself, remember?”

Arthur stared at Antonio in surprise. “What?” he asked. “Mordred’s not here?”

The painting ghosts stared at him in surprise, before looking at each other, and Elizabeth slumped a little. “He left the moment you did, Master Arthur,” she answered.

“Really?” Arthur asked, staring at her in surprise. “Why didn’t you tell me when I got back?”

Elizabeth sighed. “Because you never asked.”

Arthur stared at her, then fully submerged himself into the water for quite a few minutes. Thanks to being dead, he no longer needed air, so he could stay underwater for as long as he wanted and not worry about drowning. The heat of the water passed around him, and he resisted the urge to switch to his skeletal form and electrocute the entire bath.

Wait, what the--

Arthur immediately jumped from the water, startling the painting ghosts. “I’M SORRY!” he screamed, digging his hands into his hair and pulling at the strands so hard that it would’ve hurt had he still been alive. “I’M SORRY! I SHOULDN’T HAVE THOUGHT THAT! I’M SO SORRY! I DON’T WANT TO HURT ANYONE! I DON’T…” He whimpered. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.” The tears returned, and they sailed down his cheeks like rivers, hitting the water in a rhythmic pattern, with the orange drops turning to shards the moment they hit the water. “I don’t...I don’t want to be like Mordred…”

As he sobbed, he didn’t notice an orange aura surround him and expand, overcoming the entire room, nor did he see the way the painting ghosts began to sob themselves, their own tears hitting the water, but the sorrow they cried over was not theirs.

“Master Arthur!” Elizabeth shouted, voice watery, and he barely felt her hands on his shoulders. “Calm yourself! What has happened?!”

“I don’t want to be like Mordred…” Arthur continued whimpering to himself, and although he didn’t resist Elizabeth’s attempts of getting his hands out of his wet hair, his hands were still as tense as could be, and he was tempted to start digging his nails into his projected flesh. “I don’t...I don’t want to hurt anyone…”

The orange aura disappeared at this point, bringing back the room’s original color and making the feelings it had carried to disappear along with it. As this happened, Arthur didn’t see Elizabeth’s face tense with understanding at his words, nor did he see her look at her fellow ghosts, who nodded grimly, and he barely acknowledged that she was waving the other men out of the room, to which they did without any hesitation. Arthur then felt Elizabeth’s hand touch his chin, to which she gently tilted to where he was now looking at her directly in the eyes.

“Master Arthur,” Elizabeth began, voice gentle despite the residue of ghostly tears on her face, “repeat after me; breathe in”--She breathed in-- “breathe out”--She exhaled--“breathe in, breathe out.” She repeated the previous steps.

Arthur watched her, at first unable to understand what she was trying to do. Then, shakily and with great reluctance, he began to inhale and exhale, the first few proving to be difficult. Then, as they continued, Arthur found breathing easier, and eventually he could do it on his own.

Seeing this, Elizabeth relaxed her hands, and she eyed Arthur was a calmness that was reserved for these moments. “Are you alright now, Master Arthur?” she asked, voice gentle, as if speaking any higher would have less than desirable consequences.

Arthur nodded numbly. “Yeah,” he answered, exhausted. “I’m sorry Elizabeth.”

“Don’t be,” Elizabeth reassured, placing a hand on his shoulder. “That wasn’t you. You sometimes can’t control yourself. You know that.”

“I know,” said Arthur, voice watery, “and that scares me.”

Elizabeth frowned sadly. They both sat there in silence for many minutes, with Elizabeth moving to sit beside him in the bath, not moving to touch him, speak to him, or anything. Arthur couldn’t bring himself to look at her or say a word either, the guilt eating at him like worms in an apple. He then looked down at his anchor, seeing that the star was a deeper shade of green and that the crack was worse than it had been hours ago.

Great. He would need to go into his coffin soon to get rid of the cracks and that ugly color.

How he hated that thing sometimes. Too tight, not enough room for him to move. It always made him feel trapped, like a prisoner who was about to be tortured or buried alive. Of course, Arthur would never understand the sensation of being buried alive, but in his opinion, that was one of the worst things he knew that could happen to someone.

And that coffin only reinforced that. However, he knew how important it was to him, so he never dared to complain when it came to something like this.

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” Elizabeth finally asked, looking at him.

Arthur said nothing for a moment, but then nodded. “Yes please,” he said, voice barely audible.

Elizabeth nodded in response, and Arthur then heard the water ripple as Elizabeth got out, then the sound of her bare feet hitting the marble floors as she walked away, closing one of the doors to the changing room behind her, and leaving him alone in the bath.

From there, Arthur began to silently sob once more, numbly watching as his tears hit the water and shattered into shards of light before disappearing.

“I want to go home,” he whispered to himself, whimpering. “I just want to go home.”

He waited for a response from someone, anyone, but there was none.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who are confused, Elizabeth serves as Arthur’s “caretaker” in a sense, though in what way I will not explain as I believe it’s explained as clearly as can be here. The roles of the other painting ghosts will be explored in a later time, though I will say that they have different roles compared to Elizabeth when it comes to Arthur. Arthur's powers will also be explored in a later time, though I will admit that I am basing a portion of his powers off of Blue Diamond from Steven Universe, especially concerning her own powers over her race.


	6. This Icy Heart of Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone! Can't believe that it's going to be 2020 tomorrow!

The sun was high up in the sky at this point, signifying that it was noon, or at least some time past noon.

It had already been a long time, but Mordred still couldn’t bring himself to return to the mansion, not yet at least, not when he was still in a poor mood.

That stupid, moronic, idiotic _human_!

What the hell was so hard for him to understand? He should’ve had plenty of time to get over his disgusting feelings, especially over those two and with what he had been planning to do to them! It was because of him that they were stuck together, that he had to ruin everything!

Why couldn’t Arthur understand? At least he wasn’t condemned to be trapped in a single place for a very long time, and at least they were now free to go wherever they wish, something that Mordred didn’t have until Arthur and his stupid friends arrived at that damned cave.

It wasn’t Mordred’s fault that Arthur’s friends were so arrogant, so damn selfish, thinking that nothing would happen to them, that they did not even think to protect their supposed “dear” friend from him, and it _certainly_ wasn’t his fault that Arthur’s purple friend had been so blind, that he had been too slow to even stop their fall.

Why the hell was it so hard for that foolish Arthur to understand?! True, Mordred could not see much into the other’s mind, but it wasn’t hard for him to understand his situation, especially with those two selfish fools that he called friends and was so _foolishly_ in love with.

Mordred hissed to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose while exhaling sharply. He proceeded to walk further out of the forest and towards the town near it, and bit by bit he could feel his projection changing.

Ever since he became bound to Arthur, he had taken on the latter’s appearance, only able to change it at will when they were far away from each other. Of course, due to being stuck in the cave for so long, Mordred had forgotten what he even looked like. However, he could never bring himself to look in a mirror or a reflective surface; He didn’t want to see what he had become after all these years since he had been murdered.

He shook his head. It didn’t matter anymore; he was just happy to be out of that damned place, even if he had to be bound to a weak crybaby.

Now, here Mordred was, walking through the town that the forest was located by. It wasn’t a very impressive town, and Mordred didn’t bother to remember what its name was, but he had to admit that it was peaceful. Many of the buildings were modest, appeared to be quite old from how some were only made of brick and appeared to be falling upon themselves on the outside, and even many of the old-school cars and vehicles. Hell, there were even a couple carriages on the streets, especially ones that were being pulled by horses, with many of the streets being made of brick and/or cobblestone, and there being more people who were walking to their chosen destinations than by car.

It felt so strange seeing this, that even in the modern era, some things didn’t seem to have changed all that much except for the obvious modern changes.

Mordred wasn’t sure how he felt about these changes.

Many people passed him by without much of a glance, and thanks to his sunglasses shielding his otherworldly eyes and the hat covering most of his face, Mordred wasn’t all that concerned that he would be found out. After all, it had been quite easy blending in after the first several times, and each time got easier and easier.

He smirked to himself at that. Practice always makes perfect, a fact that he believed full-heartedly.

Even if his appearance sometimes made him look suspicious.

_“My god, what’s wrong with that guy?”_

_“I don’t know, but apparently he’s got some issues.”_

_“Looks like a loner type of guy.”_

_“Never seen him before, though.”_

_“What are you doing? Don’t go near him! He could have a gun on him for Pete's sake!”_

Mordred had to resist the urge to smirk to himself. It wasn’t a surprise to him that some humans have never changed a bit in their behaviors.

A good thing too, since Arthur never really cared (or rather didn’t know) what he would do to anyone who crossed him.

He would not be taken advantage of, not ever again, and certainly not in a place like this dump.

Just then the smell of coffee and other sweets hit his nose.

Looking up, Mordred spotted a coffee shop nearby, a small building that possessed blue brick walls, a red brick overhanging and chimney that was spouting some smoke now and then, a display window that showed the whole shop’s menu and a couple examples of cakes, cookies, and even brownies, and another window that showed the shop within.

Before Mordred knew it, he was heading across the street and towards the building.

He barely paid any attention to the fact that his hand moved to push the door open, which caused the overhead bell to jingle in response. Immediately the scent of coffee and other kinds of sweets got stronger, with the dim lighting of the room being a welcome relief from the sun outside, and Mordred smiled to himself sadly as he walked inside.

How he hated being dead, or not having a living body to possess. He couldn’t eat or taste anything anymore.

“Welcome!” greeted the woman over the counter. Looking at her, Mordred noticed that she was pretty short woman with skin that resembled dark chocolate, the matching eyes and hair, the latter of which appeared silky and was held back in a braid, and an apron over her white T-shirt and skinny jeans that was stained a little with some residue that looked like chocolate. “How are you doing today?”

Mordred forced himself to smile. “I’m doing alright thank you,” he said. “How about you? You look like you have been busy.”

“Oh, it’s not too bad,” said the woman. “Wait until you see the customers we get at lunchtime, then we’ll be busy as bees! So, would you like me to get you something?”

“Huh? Oh, oh no, thank you, I just wanted to come in and check everything out. I might though.” Mordred had to keep himself from frowning at those words. They were simply an impossibility, but this human did not need to know that.

“Alright. Well, don’t be shy if you want something! I’ll fix something up for you right away!”

Mordred nodded to her in thanks, allowing the woman to return to whatever she had been doing before as he took in the interior of the shop.

By the counter the woman was working at, there was the cashier booth that contained napkin dispensers, straws, and even toothpicks next to the cash register. The other side of the counter that the woman was working at contained the typical equipment of coffee shops that Mordred learned, ranging from espresso machines and grinders, coffee brewers and grinders, decanters, air pots, satellite servers, frappe and smoothie blenders, ice tea brewers and dispensers, a hot water dispenser, small ovens, a refrigerator at the left, and other equipment that is used to make all kinds of coffee, sweets, and for eating and drinking.

There was also a menu above it all near the ceiling, which was divided into the kinds of drinks, desserts, and kinds with the prices beside them. Mordred looked next to the register, and found that there was a display case of the sweets already baked and ready to eat next to the counter, spotting many cookies, small cakes, and brownies that looked delicious.

Mordred was quick to sit down in one of the nearby seats, finding that there were many kinds of tables located in the shop, with some being booth seats that were located by the window, overlooking the street outside. The tables, one of which he was sitting at, was a light wooden table that felt relaxing and welcoming, while the further away tables ranged in color and type. He also spotted bean bag chairs, love-seats, leather and cotton couches, and even different works of art scattered throughout the back of the shop.

Mordred stared at the works of art, which ranged from different kinds of paintings, to drawings, and even to what appeared to be pieces of literature. Getting up, Mordred walked towards the gallery, staring at the pieces of art and the works of literature with a far-off look in his eyes.

One quote of one piece of literature caught his eye.

_In three words I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life -- It goes on._

Where did he see that one quote before?

“Are you a fan of literature?” Mordred glanced over his shoulder to see the same woman looking at him from over the counter, smiling at him.

He glanced back at the quote. “Once,” he admitted. “It’s always so easy to find that fiction and non-fiction can mix in so many ways.”

The woman chuckled. “That is true,” she said. “Art comes in many forms, and it can show us the thoughts and feelings of a person just by looking into it. Sometimes it can be so accurate, it’s scary.”

Mordred nodded, smiling sadly. “Yes, it is scary sometimes.”

There was a silence for a moment. “Bad memories?” the woman then asked.

“You could say that.”

The woman said nothing else, to Mordred’s relief, and he sat down again, fingering the items in his coat pocket. It’s been so long, maybe he could order something and see if he could eat and taste something.

However, just before he could make his decision, Mordred heard the bell above the door jingle.

“Welcome!” the woman greeted, the warmth in her voice back. “How are you--Oh my god, Emily, what has happened to you, dear?!”

Mordred turned around at this point, and had to keep himself from staring in shock as he recognized the guest of honor from the night before. She looked so different from the woman from last night thanks to her civilian clothes and the dazed expression in her eyes as she silently sat down at the nearest table.

“I’ll have the usual, Marti,” she announced, and even her voice sounded dazed.

“Dear girl,” the woman--Marti--started, coming from across the counter to her side, “what has happened to you? Why, you look like you have seen a ghost!”

And a ghost she did, Mordred thought, but didn’t say out loud.

The former guest of honor--Emily--didn’t look at Marti. “It’s nothing Marti,” she said. “Please, I...I just...I really need some coffee and something sweet, please.”

Hearing the desperate plea in the other woman’s voice, Marti stepped away from Emily, quickly composing herself, and nodded. “Of course dear.” She then walked back behind the counter to get started on Emily’s order.

Mordred stared at Emily for a good few seconds before he turned away. It wouldn’t do him good to be caught staring by the former guest of honor, and he certainly did not want to spend the rest of the afternoon being forced to flee for being found out.

For the next few minutes, the only sounds inside the shop was the whirring of the coffee machine, of ice clinking together, and the sound of the display case opening and closing before Marti came back from around the counter to place Emily’s order--iced coffee and a small piece of what appeared to be a slice of chocolate cake--in front of her. Emily nodded to the other woman in thanks before she handed her the money, which Marti took and went back behind the counter, the sound of the register opening and closing following shortly after.

It was after Emily took a long sip of her drink that she spoke again.

“Marti,” she began, “do you remember what you told me?”

“Hm?” Marti looked at Emily. “About what, dear?”

“Do you remember some other patrons who came through here, talking about a Man of Lightning?” she asked. Upon hearing this, Mordred tensed.

“Yes, I have,” Marti answered slowly. “Why are you asking, dear?”

Emily said nothing at first. “I…” She paused. “I had a dream last night Marti, and...it felt so real.”

Marti was silent a moment. “What did you dream about, dear?” she asked.

“I…” Emily inhaled shakily, then exhaled. “I was...being chased into the forest...by a group of drunk men. I had went before the sun went down to get groceries, but it didn’t matter. I ended up getting chased by those...monsters into the forest, and for how long I can’t remember, but I felt I was going to be raped and maybe murdered. But then…” She stopped.

Marti said nothing, and when Mordred stole a quick glance in her direction, he spotted that she was staring at Emily with wide eyes.

“I found a house…” Emily continued. “It was run down, abandoned even, but it also felt...occupied. I ran over to it, pleading for help, and it opened, causing me to fall in. I blacked out after that, but I felt...safe, like whatever was in that house was going to protect me from those men. And...when I woke up, I was…” Emily sighed, one full of awe and longing. “I was in the most beautiful bedroom I had ever seen, dressed in a beautiful nightgown, attended to by a beautiful woman, saw a little cartoon-like ghost, and the woman...she had me dress into a beautiful white gown, saying that we were going to be late for the ball. She wouldn’t answer my questions, but now I don’t think it mattered.

“I was taken to a just as beautiful ballroom, which had so many guests. This might sound crazy to you, Marti, but...the guests were...not human. Some had wings that changed color, some were small enough to fit in the palm of my hand, others had horns, some had horrific appearances, some were inhumanly beautiful, and...the head of the house...he was so...majestic.

“He was dressed in a black suit and pants, had an orange tie, and I no longer felt like myself. I...I felt...confident, powerful even...and we...we began to dance. There was beautiful music playing in the background, but no music I have ever heard in my whole life. It was so beautiful, but all I could focus on was that man, on our dance, and I never wanted the moment to end. But...it did.

“Believe me Marti, I had never felt so...sorrowful over something in my life, and I knew that...after that moment, I would never see him again. I didn’t want to let go of him, but as soon as I did, it was over, and I...I woke up back in my house, in my pajamas, much to my alarm. But it...it felt so _real_ Marti. You have to believe me when I say that.”

Mordred looked over at Marti, seeing that she was still staring at Emily with wide eyes, her mouth partly open. Then, she looked down, and sighed mutely. “I do believe you, Emily,” she said. “It’s just...are you sure that it was a dream?”

“Huh?” Emily looked at Marti, stunned. “I-I don’t know, that’s why I told you what I did.”

“So you haven’t heard then.” Upon Emily’s confused look, Marti clarified. “A missing report for six men had been published in the newspaper a few hours ago, all men who had been last seen at the bar near the grocery store located near your apartment.”

Mordred glanced at Emily, seeing that her face had gone as pale as milk. “W-What?”

“There have also been reports of people in this town coming into contact with a being called the “Man of Lightning” a couple months ago, and other towns as well, who saves them from any threat, either by eliminating the threat altogether or other means of making sure they are never bothered again. The Man of Lightning also makes the people he saved his “guests of honor” to the balls he hosts for the supernatural, but only for one night and one night only. After that, they would be sent back home with no memory of how they got there, therefore causing many of them to think that they had dreamed it, and sometimes even to search for the Man of Lightning to see him again.

“Of course, they never find him, and eventually they come to the conclusion that they dreamed it all, despite how real it felt. However, many still believe that he’s real, and are still very determined to find him.”

Emily stared at Marti, stunned at what she heard. “So that means--”

“I believe so,” said Marti, nodding. “You spent the night with the Man of Lightning, so it wasn’t a dream.”

Emily stared at Marti for several moments before a joyous, relieved smile appeared on her face. “So it was real,” she whispered to herself. “It was real.”

“Dear,” Marti called, being Emily’s attention back to her. “While you were saved by the Man of Lightning, do not go looking for him, do you hear me?”

“What?” Emily asked, stunned. “But why?”

“Because you may come into contact with the Green Man.”

“The Green...Man?”

“Yes.” Marti’s face turned grim as she explained. “The Green Man is a green version of the Man of Lightning, though many claim that they are not the same person. They look exactly like each other, but the Green Man, unlike the Man of Lightning, is very, very cruel. In fact, those who went to search for the Man of Lightning have never returned because of the Green Man; of course that’s according to some people, but these are reports of the survivors of that ghost.”

“...really…?” was all Emily could say.

“Yes,” said Marti with a nod. “That’s why, no matter how tempting it is, do _not_ go searching for the Man of Lightning, Emily. I do not want you to be another victim of the Green Man, especially for his twisted games. He is extremely sadistic with those who cross him, and their deaths are slow and painful if they are not lucky enough to escape him.”

Mordred clenched his teeth. He had heard enough.

“How do you know all this Marti?” asked Emily.

Marti smiled, but there was nothing happy about it. “I have had a lot of people who talk about both the Man of Lightning and the Green Man; in fact many of them seem to worship the former, therefore many went looking for him so they could see him again. I can even say that many of them had fallen in love with the Man at first sight and touch, which I never thought was possible. It’s almost like they were acting on drugs.”

“Drugs…” mused Emily. “Ah, of course.”

“Just be careful, alright dear? I don’t want you to get hurt.” Marti then turned to look in the gallery. “Oh, by the way; sir, have you decided on what to order--”

She paused, noticing that the gallery area was empty.

“What in the...world? Where did he go?”

~~~

Mordred floated away from the town and back towards the manor, his invisibility helping him immensely. His teeth were clenching and unclenching as his thoughts went haywire.

He hated this. He hated this so much.

It was all _their_ fault that he was this way. If it hadn’t been for _them_, he wouldn’t be in this situation!

He growled demonically to himself. Unforgivable...how he wants to make them all **suffer** for what they did to him! He doesn’t care if they are dead, he wants to make them **PAY!**

He will find them, and when he does, he will make them regret the day they were born into this fucked up world.

It was a mistake to have ever gone into that town, and Mordred will not make the same mistake again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! I managed to get this done on New Year’s Eve! Looks like I’m getting back on my writing fiasco. YAY!
> 
> Anyway, the quote is by Robert Frost, who is probably my favorite poet. The coffee shop is also based off the one in my hometown, Metro Coffee Company, which serves as both a coffee shop and an art gallery of sorts. It also hosts a lot of things, like writing conventions on the Fridays of every month (though I have never been to one).


	7. Neither With You Nor Without You

It was probably hours later when Arthur finally left the bath. Of course, due to being dead, he was allowed to be in there for as long as he pleased, so he felt no physical discomfort that urged him to get out of the water as soon as possible.

He hated that, because now, after all that crying, he felt so numb. Any discomfort would’ve been welcomed in this situation. Though, he didn’t think he would’ve missed something like that so much, if at all.

Heh. He really was pathetic, wasn’t he?

When he got out of the bath, it was almost as if something had been waiting for him to, because the walls, the floors, the ceiling, and even the floating lights began to take on a deeper shade of green, mixing in with the gold. Arthur resisted the urge to sigh.

Mordred’s back.

And he was not in a good mood.

Arthur stepped out of the grand bath and through one of the doors to the changing room. Slowly, the water of the bath disappeared from his body, with his clothes replacing them. It was like he hadn’t even gone into the grand bath at all.

Of course, it wasn’t as if Mordred would care if he had been in the bath if he was in this poor of a mood. Still, Arthur wasn’t looking forward to meeting with him in this state, as that would make for another unpleasant conversation, one that Arthur did not want to entertain for an entire week or more.

Just as he stepped out of the changing room, Elizabeth was there waiting for him.

She bowed. “Hello, Master Arthur,” she greeted. “How was your bath?”

Arthur smiled at her, a weak smile, but still a smile. “It was alright.” He frowned. “I’m...sorry about earlier. I can’t seem to control myself when I need to. Where are the others?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “You do not have to apologize, Master Arthur, really. As for where Antonio, Joseph, and Martin have gone, Antonio is back at his post, Joseph is attending to Master Mordred right now, and Martin has gone to the library.”

Arthur nodded. “Do you know what Mordred is mad about now?” he then asked.

Elizabeth shook her head. “He did not say. He refused to speak of the reason when Joseph questioned him, and right now he is heading to the library to calm himself.”

Arthur nodded again, despite his confusion. “I see.”

Months ago, it had been agreed upon by both Mordred and Arthur that the library was practically Mordred’s space. Arthur didn’t often go there unless it was for a couple of reasons, due to him not being the type of person who loved reading (unless they were about engineering, robotics, and mechanics, and he had those books in his room for a reason), but that place was practically one of Mordred’s favorite places about this mansion, as it was where he could go read all day and all night without anyone disturbing him. Well, that, or he could just grab a couple of books (and by a couple Arthur means two or three large stacks of books) and take them to his room so he can read in peace for weeks at a time.

And Arthur was told that he went overboard with himself.

He mentally shook his head to clear it. “Well, I will be in my room. Do you mind letting me know if Mordred asks for anything?”

Elizabeth nodded. “Of course Master.” The female ghost then gracefully curtsied before she faded to a different part of the mansion, likely back into her canvas if he was correct. Seeing this, Arthur proceeded to disappear to his own room, immediately heading towards the work desk.

After all this, and in case Mordred decided to call for him, Arthur needed to keep his hands and mind busy until then.

~~~

A day passed, then another, then another, and finally two weeks passed. Then three and four, and Arthur had not once heard from Mordred.

Normally, it wasn’t unusual for Mordred to be in his room or the library for days and weeks at a time, but Arthur had not known the demon to stay in a single space for nearly a month, even if he was in a bad mood.

Now, Arthur couldn’t help but wonder. What was Mordred up to?

He didn’t want to care, and yet here he was, thinking about what Mordred was so mad about and why he isolated himself for a much longer period of time than normal.

It must be their connection that was making him think this.

During those few weeks, Arthur noticed that the mansion was acting...weird, to say the least. Sometimes it would warp, sometimes the back half of it would disappear; therefore leaving the front half, and the other resident ghosts were acting a little...off. He couldn’t really describe it, but all he could say was that it was not good. Not good at all.

“I take it you have not heard from Master Mordred either, Master Arthur?” Looking upwards, Arthur spotted Joseph looking at him from his painting canvas. He was in the process of reading a book, though Arthur couldn’t even begin to guess what kind of book it was since the cover was simply a red hardcover that didn’t possess a title, an author, or any artwork to give away what it could be about.

Quickly recovering from his surprise at being shocked from his thoughts while floating through the mansion corridors, Arthur shook his head. “You’re right, I haven’t,” he said. He furrowed his eyebrows. “Hold on, are you saying that no one else has seen Mordred, Joseph?”

Joseph nodded his head. “Yes, Master Arthur, no one in this mansion has seen or spoken to Master Mordred since the last ball. In fact, he will not allow anyone to see him, not even me.”

“You have to admit that it’s quite odd, even for Master Mordred,” Arthur heard Antonio speak up. Looking that way, he saw the man was back in his own canvas, probably on break from his duties. “Like, it is one thing to isolate himself for two weeks at most, but almost a month? It really makes you wonder what made him so mad in the first place.”

Antonio then looked at Arthur. “And hola, Master Arthur. Sorry that I didn’t greet you right away.”

Arthur shook his head. “No, it’s fine,” he said. “And you’re right, this is quite concerning.”

A flash of purple appeared in his side vision, and Arthur looked that way to see that Elizabeth also reappeared in her canvas, her face grim. “Are you planning to speak to him yourself, Master Arthur?” she asked. “You and Master Mordred are able to go into each other’s space regardless of what protections you put in place, and I’m sure that he will listen to you if you go to speak to him.”

Arthur looked at female ghost incredulously. “Elizabeth,” he began, “almost every time Mordred and I speak to each other, our conversations will always end up in arguments. Everyone living in this mansion knows that.”

“And that’s understandable, Master Arthur.” Ah, now Martin’s here. “However, you have to agree with Elizabeth when she says that Master Mordred may only listen to you when he’s in that bad of a mood, especially if he will not listen to Joseph.”

“And what makes you think that?”

Martin said nothing.

“We may be bound Martin, but that doesn’t mean that we are allies or friends in any way. Mordred made that clear to me when he possessed me in that cavern and almost forced me to kill my best friend. So what makes you think that he will listen to me or that I’ll go speak to him myself while he’s still in that mood?”

When he got an answer, it wasn’t from Martin. “It should be obvious to you, Master Arthur.” Joseph closed his book and put it away. “I do agree that Mordred is a demon, and I do not wish to make excuses for what he’s done and what he is, but have you heard the saying ‘Evil is not born, it’s made’?”

“Yes?” said Arthur. “At one point or another, but what does that have to do with--”

“It has to do with everything with Master Mordred.” Joseph looked at Arthur hard. “By now, I thought that you would know more about Mordred than you have since the day you two became bound.”

“Judge,” Elizabeth warned.

“Let him speak, Elizabeth,” said Martin. “This is necessary.”

Elizabeth glanced at her fellow painting ghost through her canvas, but otherwise went silent.

“Whatever made Master Mordred this angry has made it feel personal for him, and you understand how he gets when something hits him too close to home, Master Arthur,” continued Joseph. “I agree, Master Mordred is not a good man, and maybe has not been a good man when he was alive, but something turned him into a demon, and something from weeks ago reminded him of that. You can understand that, right, Master Arthur?”

Arthur didn’t say a word, and he glanced at the ground.

God damn it Joseph, why? Just, why?

“What do you want from me, Joseph?” he asked, glancing back at the painting ghost. He hated how weak his voice sounded right now, like he had been defeated and just didn’t know it yet.

Joseph stared back at him evenly. “I am The Judge, Master Arthur,” he said, like it was the answer to everything. “It’s my job to look at all sides of the story before I make a decision. It is also my duty to bring out the truth, no matter how much it hurts. That is what you wanted from me, remember?”

Arthur remembered. Didn’t mean he had to like it though.

Still...

“I really don’t like this Joseph,” he then said. “All Mordred and I have done throughout the entirety of us being bound was argue, argue, and argue some more. We can never come to an understanding, so why? I get wanting to understand why he’s been behaving like this, but why send me?”

“It was merely a suggestion Master Arthur,” said Joseph. “I was not ordering you to go talk to Master Mordred, but rather try to see what has made him so upset. No one has been able to get anything out of him, and we are all worried about what this could mean for us.”

Arthur’s eyes went wide, and he stared at Joseph for several moments before ducking his head. He had felt how unstable the mansion was getting, and it scared even him. It was a place that was created by two powerful spirits, one a demon and the other a ghost, and when one of those creators was distressed in any way or in big trouble, things would quickly grow unstable around the residence, which would negatively impact everyone living within said residence, including the other master.

And if this continued, things would…

Arthur sighed to himself, looking back up at Joseph. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll try to go see what’s wrong with Mordred, but I can’t promise that I’ll get anything out of him. Like we all know, he’s hard to reason with when he’s in this sort of mood.”

“Master Arthur,” Elizabeth was about to say something else, but she was interrupted by the other painting ghosts shaking their heads at her. She immediately went back into the canvas, once more going silent.

Joseph then nodded to Arthur. “Good luck then, Master Arthur. And be careful.”

“The worst thing he can do is argue with me again,” Arthur said. “But still, thanks, I’m going to need it.”

~~~

Arthur immediately went over to Mordred’s room, which wasn’t too hard to find in this place believe it or not.

He had immediately gone to the other side of the mansion after his conversation with the painting ghosts, with his newly appeared electrobeats following him. When they appeared, Arthur assumed that they didn’t want him to face Mordred alone in case he was still in a poor mood, and although he didn’t ask, he appreciated it despite knowing that the little ghosts were unable to do much when it came to protection.

As he got closer to the other side, the colors of the mansion went from gold, orange, and yellow to different shades of green, ranging from dark green, lime green, and other shades of the color.

Mordred’s bedroom was located on this side of the mansion, the part that was, unlike the front half, quite dark, and Arthur means that both literally and figuratively. Aside from the obvious changes of color, the “green half” of the mansion (as they all began to call it) was the place anyone in their right mind would not want to go to due to the dark feeling it gave off. Granted, it still was as luxurious as the rest of the mansion, with the floors being made of marble (though light green in color), the furniture ranging from sofas, to love-seats, to tables, and finally to elegant table-stands that contained vases full of daisies (also ranging from different shades of green), the walls being made of perfectly polished and cut wood, long hallways that led to many equally extravagant rooms, and the occasional chandelier that possessed candles that burned with a green fire. However, this part of the mansion felt suppressive, hostile, and dangerous to any outsider and the occasional resident.

Of course, Arthur wasn’t alive anymore, so he didn’t have to worry about anything wanting to hurt or kill him. It was already done anyway.

Anyway, since this place had two masters, it would make sense if it was divided in half, with one half illuminating the personality of one of the masters and vise versa, with the direct middle mixing them both. So, Arthur would understand why several of the residents and outsiders would prefer his part of the mansion to Mordred’s, why said outsiders were never allowed to go to the other side.

Eventually, Arthur found Mordred’s bedroom door, and his electrobeats gave weak chirps of fear, moving to hide behind their master as they took in the door they knew by heart.

It was a large door, one that was made of wood and was surrounded with long, green snakes. To any outsider, it wouldn’t take much to assume that the door led to some kind of dungeon or torture room, and the fact that it was where some of the more rebellious of guests had gone and never returned caused its reputation to be well lived in Arthur’s opinion.

Still, it was hilarious when those guests learned that this door led to Mordred’s bedroom.

Arthur shook his head to clear it. Oh no, he really needed to get this done quickly before it begins to rub off on him again.

So, without another word, he moved closer to the door, but didn’t knock.

Suddenly the snakes above the door moved, their heads snapping towards him as their eyes turned from their lifeless black to a sinister glowing green. They then detached themselves from the walls, causing the electrobeats to give weak whimpers of fear and cling to their master’s jacket. The snakes proceeded to move around Arthur, who didn’t move or react as they looked over him, their glowing eyes looking straight into him.

Arthur had to resist the urge to clench his fist or start running the opposite direction.

**_“WHaT dO yOu WaNt?”_**one of them asked, its voice dark and inhuman. **_“MaStEr MoRdReD dOeS nOt WaNt CoMpAnY.”_**

**_“LeAvE rIgHt NoW,”_** ordered the other.

Arthur stared at the snakes blankly. “I came here to speak to Mordred,” he said. “Let me through.”

The snakes were suddenly close to touching his face, their eyes glowing brighter as they hissed threateningly. **_“PeRhApS yOu DiD nOt HeAr Us. ThAt WaS nOt A rEqUeSt,” _**said one of the snakes. **_“LeAvE rIgHt NoW, oR YoU wIlL bE tHrOwN oUt Of HeRe.”_**

Arthur raised an eyebrow, then looked past the snakes to the doors. “Mordred!” he called. “I know you’re in there! I need to have a word with you, and I really don’t want to have to postpone it because of how you’re acting!”

The electrobeats chirped worriedly, their stubby arms clinging to their master’s jacket tighter now. Arthur knew they were frightened and wanted more than anything to leave and return to the safety of his anchor, but they didn’t dare to, not while he was here in Mordred’s half of the mansion.

The snakes hissed again, the sounds even more sinister and threatening than before. **_“L e A v E N o W ! y O u W i l L n O t B e T o L e R a T e D a N y M o R e !”_**

Arthur clenched his teeth, feeling familiar feelings of frustration hit him all at once. By then, he could no longer help himself.

“GET OUT HERE MORDRED!” he screamed. “ARE YOU DEAF, OR DO YOU ENJOY IT WHEN PEOPLE HURT BECAUSE OF YOU!”

He buried his hands into his hair at this point, and once more an aura of orange surrounded him and expanded, turning the entire room the same color and causing the snakes to back off, their hisses replaced with choking whimpers while their glowing eyes receded and tears streamed from them. They fell to the ground too, whimpering at the sorrow forced upon them, while the electrobeats only shed one or two tears, staring at their master sadly.

Tears were streaming down Arthur’s cheeks once more, and he glared at the door, uncaring that the aura had not disappeared as he approached the entrance to Mordred’s room.

“You selfish son of a bitch,” he hissed. “Are you too much of a coward to face yourself, or do you have others fight your battles for you?”

He was about to touch the door when he heard a voice.

“Stop it. Just stop.”

Arthur paused, knowing that the voice didn’t come from the room before him. Turning that way, he spotted Mordred staring at him blankly despite the green tears in the corners of his eyes. For several seconds, the two ghosts stared at each other, not saying a word, then Arthur lifted the aura, bringing back the color from before and allowing everyone to breathe.

Then, in an act of irritation, Mordred wiped his eyes, flicking the green drops away from him like they were poison, before glaring at Arthur.

“What do you want?” he asked. “Are you also here to lecture me about what I’ve been doing?”

Arthur looked at him, unimpressed. “Why else?” he asked. “I’ll have you know that I am not going anywhere until I hear the truth, Mordred, and for both your sake and mine, you better tell me the truth, because in case you haven’t noticed, things are growing unstable around here.”

Mordred’s face remained blank even when he spoke next. “You think this has something to do with me?” Even his voice was devoid of emotion.

Arthur glared at him, his irritation causing electrical sparks to appear around him while his electrobeats hissed angrily. “Inside. Now,” he ordered, pointing to the closed door. “And I swear, you better tell me the truth, or I will seriously fuck you up, Mordred, no questions asked.”

Once more, Mordred stared at him for a moment with a blank face, then he sighed, a tired, irritated sound, and he floated towards the door past Arthur, which opened by itself as expected. Once it was fully open, Mordred turned to Arthur.

“Are you coming?” he asked, raising a mocking eyebrow.

Arthur resisted the urge to snap at him before he floated into the room, leaving the snake guards alone. Then, while Mordred had the door close after them, Arthur took in the room.

Like his room, Mordred’s room was large, large enough to fit about five to seven people at once. It also contained elegant and lavish furniture, a chandelier that carried glowing orbs of light, and a window that overlooked the outside with the drapes currently pulled apart. However, unlike Arthur’s room, Mordred’s room was all green in color, and the furniture was probably (and somehow) more extravagant than the furniture in his room, with the furniture being bigger, the carpet under it being larger and having some kind of symbol that Arthur didn’t recognize sewn into the fabric, the glowing orbs on the chandelier being a bright green instead of orange, there being no shards of light, the book shelves containing books that ranged between author, story, and type, the coffee table containing so many books that it almost didn’t look like a coffee table at all, another table that contained an antique water pitcher, a vase with daisies, and pristine white cups, the bed being surrounded with bubbles that contained books, and finally an art and writing station replacing where Arthur would place his work desk.

Everything about this room screamed Mordred in some way, and why he thought that Arthur couldn’t understand.

Speaking of Mordred, he floated past Arthur without a word towards the table that contained the pitcher. Snapping his fingers, steam began to appear from the hole of it. Then, sitting down, Mordred grabbed a cup, then the pitcher, and poured the contents inside the former into the cup. It was dark in color, and the smell was quite strong, telling Arthur that the drink was coffee.

Then, still without looking at Arthur, Mordred brought the cup to his lips, taking a long sip of the coffee before setting it down. He didn’t move for a few moments before he spoke.

“Well?” he asked. “Are you going to say something, or are you going to stand there like a deer in headlights?”

The electrobeats gave weak chirps, and Arthur looked around the room again, taking in what he saw. “It’s been a long time since I ever saw you make this much of a mess in your room. So, what really happened when you left the mansion?”

Mordred turned at him, raising an eyebrow. “You’re smart, you tell me.”

Arthur’s eye twitched. “I’m not going to humor you, Mordred,” he said. “Now, talk. What happened?”

Mordred stared at Arthur for many moments, and upon realizing that the other was not going to take no for an answer, he grumbled angrily to himself before he began to speak.

Once he was done, Arthur was looking at Mordred incredulously, causing Mordred to sigh irritably. “Are you going to make fun of me now?” he asked. “If you are, say what you’re going to say and get it over with.”

Arthur blinked. “What makes you think that I’m going to do that?”

Mordred rolled his eyes. “Are you that forgetful, or are you ignoring the conversations we’ve had in the past, and even all those weeks ago?”

Arthur deadpanned. “That has nothing to do with this, and you know it.”

“Yes it does!” Mordred spat, shooting from his seat while glaring at Arthur, causing the electrobeats to squeak in fear. “Why do you think I’m doing what I’m doing?! Don’t tell me that you’re this stupid!”

Arthur went silent.

Eventually, Mordred sighed, sitting back down again and taking another sip of his coffee. “If you can’t understand anything, then you’re wasting my time, as well as your own. Just...get out.”

“Mordred…”

“Just leave.” For the first time, Arthur heard Mordred’s voice break. His hands were also shaking while he was holding his cup, as well as his shoulders.

What...made him so sad?

Arthur felt himself frown at the sight, and he didn’t know if he hated or was confused by the emotions he was feeling at this moment. The electrobeats also gave confused chirps from behind him. So, without another word, Arthur moved to leave the room.

“Nec possum tecum vivere, nec sine te.”

Arthur stopped, looking at Mordred with confusion. “What?” he asked.

“Have you ever heard of that saying?” Mordred asked, still without looking at him.

Arthur shook his head, even though the other ghost couldn’t see it. “No, I haven’t.”

Mordred scoffed, the noise sad instead of its usual mock. “It means ‘I can neither live with you, nor without you.’ It really fits this place, and what we have been doing all this time, doesn’t it?”

Arthur’s mouth parted slightly, and he resisted the urge to bitterly laugh. “Yeah, it really does.”

He then left Mordred’s room without another word, his electrobeats following him without fuss, and with nothing stopping him as he went back to his side of the mansion. Once he was there, he sighed, causing his electrobeats to chirp in concern.

He really accomplished nothing, did he?

“I really am a disappointment,” he mused, tears streaming down his face once more.

His electrobeats could only chirp with concern.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> College classes are going to be starting for me soon, so I’m trying to update as many chapters as I can for my current stories. Of course, since I’m taking off-campus courses, they aren’t going to be starting for me until a week from now, so I’ve got some time.
> 
> However, since my classes are going to be focusing on a lot (and I mean A LOT) of reading and writing, be warned that updates for any of my current stories may be postponed, but I will try to update as much as I can. No promises though.


	8. Night and Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s another short chapter before the semester starts. It hasn’t even started yet and already one of my classes has opened, bringing with it a lot of work for me to do. I barely have even started it, and already I know this class is going to be a pain in the ass. Still, I better get used to it quickly, but being the overachiever who loves to get things done and over with, this is going to be a rough couple of weeks.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this short chapter.

The moon shone brightly against the starry night, turning the sky around it into a deep to dark blue, causing the stars to show the beauty of the Milky Way galaxy, and for the ground below to be illuminated by the moon's light, allowing any human to find their way through the night without too much difficulty.

And through the night, red flower petals flew, landing in front of a dark and abandoned cave.

Many would likely not think much of this, except when there was no wind to guide those petals toward the place they landed, nor could they explain why they didn't move again once they landed.

That was, of course, if anyone not aware of the supernatural was nearby.

Almost as soon as the petals landed and went still, a small tree with white leaves and pink flowers burst from the ground near them, then the hole widened to allow a head to peep through. The owner looked around for several moments before stepping out of the hole, revealing a tall figure who was clearly not human just from her blue skin, her legs containing no human feet, and the tree on her head.

Other than that, the figure was clearly female, wearing a Japanese robe that could be associated with medieval times, pink beaded bracelets and a matching necklace, bandages on each of her wrists and hands, pink eye-shadow, and pink lipstick on her lower lip. She also had shoulder-length white hair, pink eyes, and a single fang protruding out of her mouth.

Without a word or regard towards the petals near where she just emerged, the figure walked into the cave, her walk confident and ancient, something no human could hope to match.

It was dark, but she was able to see into the cave easily. After all, she was not a weak human, therefore she ignored the emptiness the cave possessed, even the dark orange and green tint to it all as she walked even deeper inside, coming across two paths.

She stopped briefly, before deciding to head left, which took her to the upper part of the cave, containing a cliff that overlooked many stalagmites below.

She stole a glance downwards, undeterred by the sharp spikes protruding from the ground, and noticed that much human blood had been spilled here not too long ago. She quickly took a deep breath, sighing.

What a pity. She would've loved to claim that soul for herself had its host body still been alive.

She shook her head. She didn't come here to get sidetracked by one measly human, no matter how tempting. She came here for a reason, and she mustn't be distracted!

Holding out her hand, she focused her power into it, watching as a flower bud began to bloom from the palm. Red petals began to form, and she watched carefully, waiting for it to bloom into its fullest.

But then it wilted, turning into dust before disappearing from existence.

Anger grew in her quickly, and with a frustrated growl, she slammed her fist against the nearest wall, causing it to crack.

This was another dead end!

That damn, cowardly kitsune!

With another angry snarl, she stomped away from the cliff, ready to leave. She was now going to have to search somewhere else, which was going to be a huge pain, but at least she knew what piece of land that damned beast was on now.

She could take solace in that.

Of course, just as she was about to walk away, a burst of raw, pure power rushed through her, causing her to stop in shock.

What? What is this?

She quickly held out her palm, and immediately two flowers formed. One was a flower that contained orange to yellow petals, had a black protruding center, and was glowing with a magenta and blue coloring mixed with the gold. The other was a flower that contained light green petals except they were a little more enclosed than the first, a protruding center that was a deep dark green, and also glowed slightly, except it was with the same color. She eyed each of the flowers, taking in their power.

She nearly collapsed to her knees at the feeling of the first flower. Oh great gods, there was so much power, so much purity, and immediately she wanted to look for the owner of that soul so she could devour it for herself. The other, however, possessed a darkness that she recognized very well, as it came from a soul that had been hurt and suffered for such a long time, probably as long as she even existed. Granted, it wasn't as appealing as the first, but it was quite powerful.

But not as powerful as her.

She smiled as a new idea came to mind. Maybe this trip wasn't such as waste after all.

Without anymore hesitation, she blew on the petals, causing them to disconnect from the stems as they went flying into the air without the guidance of wind. Immediately after, she burrowed herself into the ground, following them through the dirt as they continued to fly ahead of her.

All the while, she was grinning. This was going to be fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? You think I forgot about _her_? I would never.__
> 
> _ _For anyone who is curious about the flowers, I used the black-eyed susans and anemone flowers. You are more than welcome to look up what they mean for who they’re representing, but I will not say myself, as they will lead to spoilers for the story._ _
> 
> _ _Again, sorry for the short chapter. The next one will be longer, I promise._ _


	9. Prisoner of Love

The strings of the harp created beautiful sounds that echoed throughout the entire room, causing the floating lights to shine a more prominent shade of gold, orange, and yellow depending on the note played. Arthur didn’t pay any mind to them as he mutely listened to Elizabeth play the harp, her hands expertly dancing across the strings while she lightly swayed to the music with her eyes closed. Her dark pink eye-shadow was now the most prominent feature on her face as she played, but Arthur didn’t make himself pay attention.

Right now, he was back on his bed, laying down, and silently listening with his eye-sockets closed. He could feel his electrical hair pop with exhausted sparks as he became lost in his thoughts.

It had only been two days since he had that talk with Mordred, and Arthur was more confused than ever. He didn’t have any answers, and he didn’t know who to ask for them. However, one thing he did know was that he did want answers to those questions, and they were all about Mordred.

Who was he, really? What happened to him? Where did he come from? How did he find his way into that cave? How did he become a demon? Arthur knew Mordred would not answer those questions, no matter how much Arthur pestered him, and that only frustrated Arthur even more.

Then again, Mordred was really good at doing that.

Arthur opened his eye-sockets, shifting on the bed as he continued to listen to Elizabeth’s music. At first he watched the lights above him, watching as they shifted from different shades of orange, to different shades of yellow, and then to gold and back again in response to every different string Elizabeth played, and even as they faded from or into existence like they normally would. Then, after several more minutes of this, he looked back to Elizabeth.

The female painting ghost continued to play without showing any sign of acknowledgment to the world around her, her fingers still plucking at the strings of the harp to create more calming, beautiful music. As for the harp, Arthur thought it suited Elizabeth well, with its dark purple (almost black) coloring and its accompanying designs. The pedestal had flower-like designs, flowers that Elizabeth once admitted were baptisia flowers, and they surrounded the bottom of the pillar, almost like old friends. The crown, located at the top of the pillar, was sharp, elegant, and quite feminine, showing designs of where gems would be found in such a crown.

Arthur had never been interested in playing the harp, but he had to admit, sometimes the instruments reminded him of an angel’s wing.

His nonexistent heart began to hurt upon thinking about two certain stringed instruments, instruments that were Lewis and Vivi’s favorites.

Finally, Elizabeth’s hands played the last few notes, and she sat there in stillness for many moments as the music slowly faded from existence. Then, once there was no sound left to listen to, she opened her eyes, resting her hands on her lap as she turned to look at Arthur.

She smiled a small smile. “Was that to your liking, Master Arthur?” she asked.

Even though she couldn’t see it, Arthur smiled back. “It was amazing, as always, Elizabeth,” he answered, voice low. “You don’t have to keep asking me that, you know.”

Elizabeth nodded. “I understand,” she said, “still, it’s only fair that I ask you, so that I could improve.”

Arthur sat up, chuckling a little. “Well, you shouldn’t be asking me that. I know nothing about playing the harp like you do, Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth giggled lightly, stealing a glance at the harp. “I know, Master Arthur. You do favor the piano and the...synth if I remember correctly more than other instruments. Still, it’s good to hear feedback from a fellow musician, no matter what they specialize in.”

Arthur didn’t respond to that. Suddenly, he felt sad again upon recalling the past, and his mind began to betray him once more.

No one, except Uncle Lance, knew about his skill with the piano. Well, while they knew about his favorite instrument, the synth, no one but Arthur’s uncle knew that he was also skilled with the piano (and it was quite similar to the synth in some areas). They also didn’t know his skill in art, in speaking multiple languages, or his ability to sing. Still, Arthur never thought to mention either of them to Lewis, Vivi, or anyone besides Uncle Lance, figuring that it wasn’t important.

After all, when his two <strike>loves</strike> friends began dating, they never bothered with Arthur, their time for him having lessened until it seemed like he didn’t matter to them. At that point, Arthur’s friendship with Vivi and Lewis had gone from a trio of friends to two plus one.

He never mattered once they got together, and Arthur thought that he was fine with that. After all, he had been itching for his two friends to get together and not act like the oblivious love-struck people he knew. He had been fine with only being a friend to them, but when their friendship with him became nothing to them after that…

That hurt, very, very much.

Was he _anything_ to them? Had everything they had been a lie?

Arthur didn’t realize he was silently crying again, because Elizabeth was sitting next to him on the bed now.

“Master Arthur?” she began, voice soft. “Have I said something to upset you?”

She sounded worried, and automatically Arthur felt guilty for making her think that. Was that all he was good for too?

“No, it’s not you,” he whispered, trying to wipe away his tears. “It’s just...I can’t stop thinking about the past. I try so hard to move on, to accept what’s happened, _to be happy_, but...it’s so _hard_, Elizabeth. It’s literally choking me, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

Elizabeth didn’t respond at first, but she did take that time to hold his hand in hers. “I’m not like Joseph or Martin, so I doubt my words may be of any comfort to you, Master, but…” She sighed mutely. “That kind of pain is not easy to overcome. After all, when one goes through something that damaging, that traumatic, moving on from it is a hard and long process. Many times it can seem impossible to overcome, and it’s never easy. Still, the fact that you’re trying as hard as you are tells me that you are on the road to recovery, and it’s something I know you can take comfort in.”

Arthur didn’t respond, just clutched the female ghost’s hand in his as he silently shed more tears.

“Of course, I can no longer remember what happened to me, but, at the same time, I do, and I don’t want to remember.”

Arthur could understand that. Again, like with the other painting ghosts, Arthur didn’t know much about Elizabeth’s past, except that she was from some area in England and that she must’ve been a member of a prestigious family from probably the Victorian era. He also didn’t know how she met her end, as she never spoke of it, either because she couldn’t remember or she didn’t want to talk about it.

He could understand that.

Elizabeth said nothing else after that too, only tracing Arthur’s knuckles to comfort him. The lights of the room were now a deep orange as they floated about, and Arthur watched as one such light floated near his free hand, shattering from existence the moment it touched him.

He could only frown as he watched that happen.

Then, came a knock on the door, snapping Arthur from his thoughts.

“Who’s there?” called Elizabeth, having recovered faster than her master.

_“Pardon me, Master Arthur,”_ called the familiar voice of Joseph,_ “but Elizabeth, whenever you’re done, you’re needed at your post. We have work to do.”_

Elizabeth’s mouth parted slightly before a look of understanding appeared on her face, and with one last pat on Arthur’s hand, she stood up from the bed, gracefully curtsying before him.

“Forgive me for leaving you, Master Arthur, but I have to return to work. Will you be alright without me?” she asked.

Arthur did his best to smile. He had worried enough people today. “I’m alright,” he lied. “You’re free to leave.”

Elizabeth hesitated, but then nodded and righted herself. “Then I will take my leave.” She then left Arthur’s room without another word, her form fading from the spot, and her harp soon disappeared from existence shortly after.

Arthur stared at the spot where the harp used to be for a few seconds, or perhaps minutes before he turned away, a mute sigh escaping him.

With only him in this large bedroom, he felt so alone. Even though there were so many ghosts in this mansion, Arthur could understand that this was what loneliness felt like, something he had not felt in a long time. He couldn’t describe it, but he could probably compare it with…

He violently shook his skull back and forth, ramming his hands into it violently. “God damn it Arthur!” he hissed. “Stop it, what the hell is wrong with you, huh?!”

His anchor glowed, and his electrobeats came out, chirping with concern again. Arthur couldn’t pay attention to them as he continued scolding himself physically and verbally, but with what words, he couldn’t decipher.

Eventually, his mind finally went silent, and he slumped over himself, looking up at his electrobeats numbly. One of them, specifically one that had magenta eyes and a matching star on its chest, floated up to him, nudging his hand with its head.

Arthur smiled weakly, even though the little ghosts couldn’t see it. “Sorry everyone,” he whispered, running his skeletal fingers over the little ghost’s head, causing it to squeak with contentment. “It’s just me being me again, don’t worry.”

The electrobeats didn’t make a sound, only staring at him sadly before they floated about him. A couple more of them floated to him, nudging him with their arms this time, and Arthur watched as they tangled themselves around his arm, causing him to feel the electricity of their forms as they nuzzled against him. Eventually, the other electrobeats gained enough courage to join them, nuzzling their master in whatever space they could find, even under his skull.

Arthur couldn’t help but chuckle. “Aw, come on guys,” he began, trying not to laugh, “how am I going to move if you all dog-pile me like this?”

The only response he got were chirps, unintelligible ones of course, but from the sounds of it, he wasn’t going to be moving anytime soon.

Oh boy...still, he couldn’t help but smile.

So, Arthur laid back down on the bed, making sure that he didn’t land on any electrobeats, and they chirped with happiness, cuddling into him with happy auras around them. Their eyes formed an upside-down ‘u’ in response to that happiness, and they cuddled even deeper into him.

They stayed like that for awhile, and Arthur once more watched the shards of light, noticing that they were now a bright shade of yellow. He smiled again, then thought back to the harp.

It had certainly been a long time since Elizabeth played it, especially for him. He should probably ask her if she could do it more…

Hold on a minute.

A chirp was heard, causing Arthur to snap his eyes open. When did he close them?

Either way, above him, one of the electrobeats, one with a blue star and eyes, was chirping something to him, and he blinked.

He slowly sat up, causing the electrobeats to swarm off him, their chirps full of frustration with the interruption.

“Oh, that’s right,” Arthur mused. “How could I have forgotten? We do have that room for a reason.”

The electrobeats blinked, except the one that told him the idea. He smiled. “Thank you for reminding me,” he said. He then stood up from the bed. “Well, let’s go.”

The electrobeats’ eyes went wide with understanding, and with nods in agreement, they went back into his anchor, leaving Arthur alone for the time.

He immediately left his room, phasing through the doors and floors in his pursuit towards his destination. Eventually, after a couple minutes of floating, almost aimlessly, he found the room.

It was a large room, almost as large as the ballroom, but only slightly smaller. It was also a dark room with the dark brown wooden floors that were perfectly straight and the matching walls that reached many feet into the air, though the light brown ceiling above contrasted significantly with them. There was also a magnificent chandelier hanging from the ceiling, shaped almost like a bell with the amount of white diamonds adorning it, though at the moment no light shone from within it.

Ahead, there was a grand staircase decorated with a plush black and yellow-rimmed carpet, which led to a balcony that surrounded the upper half of the room, and which led to nowhere. The pillars of the staircase were made of the same dark brown wood and were shaped almost as flowering vines. Windows also shone natural lighting into the room, specifically the full moon’s light, and they were located throughout every corner of the upper part of the room.

The residents of this mansion dubbed this room as the grand music room, though its uses could vary, especially for Arthur.

Arthur walked further inside, his shoes creating tapping sounds against the hardwood floors, and he watched alongside his newly-formed electrobeats as the almost empty room being to fill itself with various instruments, ranging from violins, cellos, flutes, and to other kinds of instruments, but as Arthur passed them, they disappeared from existence, until finally he approached a black, shining, and grand piano.

Mutely, Arthur ran his hand across the instrument’s smooth surface, then opened the fall board, eyeing the pearly white and shining ebony keys it hid underneath. Touching the bench near it, he slowly pulled it out, its elegant legs sliding across the floor easily, before he sat down on it and got himself into the proper position to play.

His fingers touched the keys, his foot touched the floor pedal, and he froze. Looking up at the open lid of the piano, Arthur sighed.

“What can I play?” he asked. “There’s so many options, and…” He couldn’t finish.

The electrobeats were wandering around the room at this point, then one quickly popped up next to him, smiling big with its arms held out in a sort-of victory pose. Arthur eyed the electrobeat, raising an eyebrow.

“What are you doing?” he asked. The electrobeat began to chirp even more excitedly, saying something that Arthur had to struggle to even understand. By the time the little ghost finished, Arthur’s eyes were wide with understanding, and he smiled at them, switching to his human projection.

“You’re right,” he said. “It’s been a long time since I’ve played that song.”

The electrobeat chirped in agreement.

Arthur then looked back to the piano. “Well, I can’t think of any reason to refuse. It’s one of my favorite songs too.”

The electrobeat chirped happily.

Arthur turned away to look at the keyboard again, resting his fingers on the right ones, then took a deep breath even though he didn’t need one, and began to play.

It was so strange, that playing the piano came as naturally for him as it did with the synth or even the keytar. Arthur could almost be surprised that no one besides Uncle Lance knew this.

The tone his fingers had the first keys play were ferocious, ready, and full of action, and his fingers began to zoom across the keyboard in his ferocity to match the song. Eventually, the song became beautiful and adventurous as he continued to play, and Arthur didn’t pay any attention to the fact that the electrobeats were zooming about the room in their own kind of dance.

Arthur did not know what the song was called, or what it was about, but to him it felt like it was telling a story of an epic adventure or battle, and likely a magical one. It was amazing, full of the obvious adventure, and so much more, and Arthur could feel himself smiling as he took in the emotion of the song as he continued to play it.

Eventually, he closed his eyes as he became lost in the music, his fingers keeping up with the rhythm inside his head and fingers. Arthur rocked his body to the feeling and movement of the song, allowing it to take him on a journey through a fictional and magical landscape, a place he knew could never hope to exist.

Then, his mind drifted as the music became slower, more tragic, and hesitant as he thought back to the past, probably the last time he played this song on the piano.

He had been alone at the time, but he had found a grand piano on one of the Mystery Skulls’ investigations, but what exactly they were investigating he couldn’t bring himself to remember. Vivi and Lewis were out doing whatever, predictably taking Mystery with them, so he had been left to his own devices. So, confident that no one was there to listen, Arthur played this song, and the ache he was feeling right now was so similar to the kind he felt back then; raw, aching, choking, _painful_.

He was alone, and would always be alone, no matter what he did. Lewis and Vivi never truly cared about their friendship with him as soon as they got together, and it wasn’t like they would accept his feelings for them if they knew. Arthur could still remember their words that all but didn’t confirm it.

_“What’s it like, loving more than one person?”_

_“I bet it’s difficult. After all, who in their right minds would love more than one person? It just doesn’t work! It’s also like...asking for heartbreak and unhealthy jealousy to happen. Especially when the people are in it for something other than love.”_

_“...Yeah, you’re right. It does look very difficult when you think about it.”_

_“Well, I hope that never happens to us.”_

As soon as Vivi said those words, any hope that Arthur had of confessing his feelings to them was crushed.

She was right; it wouldn’t work. That was not how relationships were supposed to work.

He had been an idiot thinking that he had any chance.

Arthur opened his eyes, finding that he was still playing the song in a sad tune, and by now it was moving to a more hopeful tone, something he didn’t feel at this time. Tears were streaming down his face again as he forced his fingers to move, playing a ferocious and emotional tune that both matched his mood but at the same time not. The electrobeats’ auras shone bright orange, illuminating the room as they performed their own dance to the music, and Arthur forced himself to not get distracted, no matter how much he wanted to.

The song now felt misleading, like it was hiding something far more tragic and upsetting than it wanted to show by simply going back to its usual tone. However, Arthur knew that anyone who listened to this song all the way through would know what it was desperately trying to forget, trying to bury, and, as a result, would be unable to ignore it. Arthur knew he couldn’t; it was, after all, what he was feeling at this time.

As he continued to play, he began to reach the end of the song, and Arthur could feel a frustration coming along that he did not feel before. So, gritting his teeth together, he proceeded to end the song with a strong note, something as close to a bang that a piano song could get.

He allowed the tune to echo for a few seconds longer before he released the floor pedal, cutting it off. Suddenly the entire music room fell silent once more, and the lack of sound felt ominous, mournful, and out of place. Arthur then mutely sighed again, looking at his electrobeats.

They were back at his side now, their happy auras now auras of concern and sorrow. Arthur realized that he was still silently crying, and he could only weakly smile at them.

“Heh, I really am weak,” he said, standing up. “As long as I still remember them, I will always be like this. Looks like Mordred was right about that; I can’t seem to let go, but…” He sighed. “Is it wrong for me to hold on to something I never had?”

The electrobeats didn’t give him the answer he wanted or needed, and Arthur could only sigh again. He then moved to look back at the piano, finding that the instrument still looked as undisturbed like it had when he first approached it, only with the keyboard visible. It could never get dirty, could never get old, could never be contaminated, and Arthur wasn’t sure if he hated that or was relieved by it.

Either way, he had been about to bring the piano cover over the keys to close it when his hand was grabbed by multiple stubby ones.

Surprised, Arthur looked to his electrobeats, who were holding his hand still while looking up at him with a sort of sad determination. Upon staring at them for a moment longer, he allowed them to lead him away from the piano, confused.

“What are you doing?” he asked gently, tilting his head to the side. After he got an appropriate distance from the piano, the little ghosts released his hand and began to float around the instrument, chirping out sentences.

Arthur’s eyes went wide. “You...want to play?” he asked.

They nodded, zooming away from their positions at that. They then went around the room, with some going to the ceiling, others to the floor, and the rest to the walls, all watching as one electrobeat went towards the piano, the instrument glowing a bright orange before it began to shrink close to the ghost’s size as soon as they touched it. Still, it remained bright orange, floating towards the electrobeat, and the originally large seat also floated by them before they sat down on it, positioning their stubby arms on the keys.

If not for the fact that Arthur realized what the little ghost was doing, he would’ve laughed or even smiled at the adorable scene.

Either way, he relaxed his previous sad stance, positioning his body in a way that would agree with what the electrobeats were about to do next.

Almost as soon as he got into that position, the electrobeat began to play.

The melody that erupted from the shrunken piano was, for lack of a better word, beautiful, and each note was played carefully, which would be quite impressive to anyone who didn’t know what the electrobeats were capable of. Either way, as the song began, Arthur began to move slowly, positioning himself in a way that he knew spoke of beauty, loss, and love.

As if he was performing a waltz, Arthur moved about the room, positioning his arms and body in a way that agreed with the music. Closing his eyes, he allowed the music to overcome his entire being, leading him in a way that made him embrace himself, almost like he was searching for an invisible partner. However, he was not deterred when he didn’t find one, and he continued to dance around the room, moving his arms, his legs, and his body in a way that made it seem like the music itself was dancing with him.

Then, as the electrobeat playing the piano continued with the song, the notes becoming more intense and emotional, the sound of violins began to slowly fade into the foreground, growing more intense the more they grew, until finally they were mixing in with the piano’s tune.

In response to this, Arthur’s dance became more intense yet no less emotional, and he continued to dance around the room, his eyes remaining closed, and by then he began to take the dance to the ground, covering his face at times, almost like he wanted to hide it. Eventually he regained his footing, swaying this way and that as the music tamed for a time.

Of course, it didn’t last long, and as the piano took the stage for a time, Arthur used it to brace himself for when the violins would play next, then went back to dancing ferociously in response to each note they played. His shoes were creating sounds on the floor that matched the timing of the piano and the violins in a way, but Arthur paid no attention.

As he danced, once more his mind began to drift against his will as he remembered another moment of heartache with Lewis and Vivi.

It was a time when they were back in Tempo, having no paranormal investigations to do, and it was at the Pepper Paradiso, the restaurant of Lewis’ adoptive family. Even now, Arthur could still smell the sugar and spice of the place that familiarized itself in his mind, the appearance of Lewis’ parents and younger sisters (from the loving expression on Mr. Pepper’s face, the stern love on Mrs. Pepper’s, the excitement in Belle’s, the mischief in Cayenne’s, and the innocence in Paprika’s), and taste the taste of the spiked milkshake that Cayenne, the prankster of the family, almost always applied to them. Even now, Arthur couldn’t understand how Lewis was able to handle the taste of spicy things, much less enjoy them.

But that time...it had been a special night for the Pepper family, when Lewis and Vivi made their relationship official to them. There had been much celebration, much joy, and during the night Lewis and Vivi began to dance to the music Mr. and Mrs. Pepper were listening to, so wrapped up in the existence of each other that no one else mattered, not even Arthur.

It hurt, but Arthur forced himself to smile throughout that night so no one would notice, and it hadn’t been that hard considering how happy they were at that moment. Still, he was happy, he _knew_ he was happy. After all, Lewis and Vivi had finally gotten together like he wanted.

Right?

His eyes burned again, and Arthur opened them, knowing his tears were now flowing down his cheeks like rivers, but he didn’t stop dancing as the piano took the center stage once more, creating a somber tune that somehow felt sadder than it had before. Arthur looked to his electrobeats.

Many of them had their eyes closed, even those who were playing glowing orange violins. For those who weren’t playing the violins or the piano, they were somberly dancing around the room with Arthur, specks of orange light floating from their forms in the process. Arthur also saw that tears of their own were streaming down their faces, which flew into the air and disappeared from existence the moment they hit the nearest surface, matching his own. He continued to watch them while he danced, but then looked away in guilt.

They saw, didn’t they?

The violins briefly stopping to allow the piano to play alone couldn’t have been more fitting.

Arthur slowed his dance down while the piano played, slowly moving until the violins started back up, more intense than before, and Arthur danced more ferociously than ever, listening carefully as the instruments began to slow down and come to an end, with him slowly going to the floor once more as the piano stopped and the violins faded out. Even then, when there was nothing to listen to, he stayed there for quite a few moments before he sat up.

Arthur stared at the floor numbly, watching as the orange specks of light from the electrobeats’ dance and the instruments faded from existence. Just like the room, he felt so...empty, like he accomplished nothing. His electrobeats were back to his side at this point, not making a sound and, just like him, were silently crying.

Arthur continued staring at the floor under him. Why? Why does he even stay? They were better off without him; now they had each other without a third wheel to hold them back.

Just then, the sound of someone clapping was heard, startling Arthur from his mind as he snapped around to face the staircase. The electrobeats squeaked in horrified surprise at the person before them, causing some of them to retreat into Arthur’s anchor while others burrowed close to their master.

“Bravo,” said the figure, stepping off the stairs and still clapping lightly. “That was quite an emotional dance, partner. I about shed a tear.”

Arthur, of course, frowned as soon as he realized who the person was. “Hello Mordred,” he greeted. “I see you decided to come out of your room.”

Mordred shrugged. “It was getting crowded in there. I needed the space.”

Arthur deadpanned at the other ghost, causing Mordred to raise an eyebrow. “What?” he asked.

“Of all the things I’ve heard you say, this has to be the most surprising,” Arthur answered.

Mordred shrugged again. “That’s an interesting perspective you have,” he said sarcastically.

Arthur resisted the urge to sigh at the man’s behavior. He then stood up, the electrobeats still hiding behind him. “How long have you been up there?” he then asked, gesturing to the balcony above them.

“The moment you started dancing. Again, you put on quite the show there, even without a partner to dance with.”

Oh, of course. Mordred was never interested in Arthur’s banter, even if he was near. He probably already knew all of it by now.

Though, speaking of that...

“So,” Arthur began, “do you want to talk?”

Mordred stared at him. “About what?”

“About what made you so angry.”

Silence answered Arthur, but he was unfazed as he stared at Mordred, who stared back at him with an unreadable expression, even staying in the same position from seconds before. They stayed that way for several moments, the only sound being the occasional quiet yet fearful chirp of the electrobeats. Eventually, to the little ghosts’ obvious relief, Arthur broke the silence.

“Our last conversation had me thinking,” he began, “I now know that there’s more to you than I originally thought, one of them being that you are hiding something, something that you don’t want anyone else to know, something that is weighing you down.”

Mordred said nothing, though his eyes flashed a bright shade of green.

“Tell me the truth Mordred,” Arthur ordered, voice soft now. “What happened to you to become this way?”

Mordred stayed silent, his face remaining unreadable as he continued to stare at Arthur. The electrobeats were now shaking against Arthur’s jacket, worried about how the other ghost would react, but Arthur remained unafraid...on the outside, of course.

It wouldn’t do him any good to show fear in front of Mordred of all people. He was the kind of ghost that fed off the fear of others, ghosts included, and Arthur would be no exception.

Then Mordred looked away and relaxed his stance after several moments, looking upwards through one of the nearest windows and into the starry moonlit night. He proceeded to walk back up the stairs before he stopped midway, putting his hands behind his back.

“I told you, didn’t I?” he asked, a growl in his voice. “Your past is none of my concern; therefore my past should not be any of your concern.”

Arthur glared up at Mordred. “That’s rich for you to say,” he said.

Mordred turned to look at him, suddenly looking like an arrogant ruler who was looking at a cockroach in human form. “What was that?” he asked threateningly.

“You heard me,” Arthur answered coldly, ignoring the worried chirps of the electrobeats. “Despite you saying that you want nothing to do with my past, you made it your mission to use it against me on numerous occasions. In fact, I have the feeling that you were going to do that sometime in this conversation.”

Mordred didn’t answer.

“Still, I do think we can agree on one thing.” Arthur took a deep breath. “We were both hurt, but in your case, I don’t know how. From what I’m seeing, you are a prime example of keeping the truth buried so deep that it’s hurting you. So why don’t you tell me the truth so that we’re both even in this?”

Mordred’s eyes flashed again, causing the electrobeats to whimper, and Arthur braced himself, waiting for the other ghost to start screaming incoherent insults at him for even thinking of comparing his experiences to Arthur’s. Hell, Mordred looked like he wanted to.

But...he didn’t. Instead Mordred turned away, his hands clenched so tightly that, had he still been alive, the nails probably would’ve drawn blood from his hands. It was many seconds later when they relaxed, though to Arthur it felt like minutes.

Mordred’s arms went to his sides, and he turned back around, his expression once more blank as he walked back down the stairs and towards Arthur. Arthur waited, bracing for any verbal or physical blow Mordred might afflict.

Instead, Mordred stopped by his side. “That is none of your concern,” he said, voice low. “You should stop trying to mess with things you shouldn’t, and be more concerned about yourself, partner.”

Arthur looked at him, biting his lip to keep himself from allowing his frustration to be known. Mordred was avoiding his questions, again! What the hell was he trying to do?!

What was it that Mordred was trying to hide from him?

Arthur grit his teeth. No matter, he was going to find out, whether Mordred liked it or not. He was not going to be the only one who could be taken advantage of because of his past.

What, stop it Arthur! What are you thinking?!

Suddenly Mordred chuckled, bringing Arthur’s attention back to him. Looking at him in surprise, Arthur watched as the other ghost walked towards the door, which once more opened by itself, but once the light of the hallway outside fully enveloped the doorway, Mordred stopped and turned to him, a smile on his face.

The electrobeats whimpered again, though this time Arthur caressed the heads of some of them to comfort them.

“Better get yourself ready partner,” Mordred then said. “We have another ball to prepare for tonight. I hope you haven’t forgotten.”

Arthur frowned in understanding. Oh yes, another ball, and even now, as they spoke, he could feel the arrival of the guests, and they were almost here.

He then looked to Mordred. “What exactly are you planning?” he asked.

Mordred’s smile widened. “Nothing significant,” he said. “However, you can be rest assured that I will be attending this time, so you won’t have to deal with all the guests by yourself.”

Arthur glared at him. “I am not that weak, Mordred,” he said.

Mordred scoffed in amusement before turning back to the open doorway. “I never said you were. Now, if I were you, I would get ready. We do have to look our best, after all.” He then walked out of the room, the doors closing behind him as soon as he was out, leaving Arthur and the electrobeats in near darkness.

Arthur stared at the door, not saying a word, but when he felt a stubby hand touch his cheek in concern, he looked at the electrobeats, smiling slightly.

“Well, he is right about one thing: we can’t be late. The guests really don’t like waiting for anything.” He shook his head at that. What was wrong with the supernatural?

Then he discarded the thought. They invited these kinds of guests here for a reason, and Arthur was not going to let that up for anything.

Not even his curiosity about Mordred’s past.

“Well, let’s go,” he said to the electrobeats, who chirped in agreement, and without another word, they fazed out through the walls towards Arthur’s room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I strongly headcanon that Arthur is multilingual, can play the piano, is an artist (he may or may not have to design blueprints for cars after all), and can sing, and no one can convince me otherwise.
> 
> Anyway, I’m surprised that I managed to get this written while my classes are still going strong with all the reading and writing I have to do. Oh well, I’ll take what I can get.
> 
> I was also listening to a lot of songs while I was writing this, and I felt that the song from this link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u4U8Xifj93o was perfect for the type of song that Elizabeth would play on the harp (though the song doesn’t have an official title, and I can’t find it anywhere else). I was also listening to the piano cover of Spear of Justice from Undertale by kylelandry on Youtube (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mq48X_ZgGbg) while Arthur was playing the piano, and the orchestra cover of Utada Hikaru’s Prisoner of Love (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fYA4EKfZZaE) while writing about the music Arthur’s dancing to, the latter song which happens to be the inspiration for the naming of this chapter.
> 
> Now, I’m not sure when I’ll get the next update in, again because a couple of my classes are RUTHLESS when it concerns homework, primarily because it involves me reading about 30 to over 100 (or more) pages a day, as well as writing mini papers about movies and others. I know, it sounds ridiculous, but that’s college life for you. Not only that, but there are also my other stories, one of which I’m going to try to update sometime after this. So, I thank you all for being patient, but please bear with me a little longer while I’m still going through this semester.


	10. Love the Way You Lie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry for the late update everyone. Again, my classes have been merciless, as I had multiple papers to write, movies to analyze, books to read (and I am now going to have to read 200 pages or more for one book), and am studying for exams. Also, I had to get back into counseling because I’m having a slight relapse of depression, enough to where I can barely focus on anything I need to, am having negative thoughts, am tired almost every day despite sleeping eight hours every night, and barely eat full meals (though when I do, the food isn’t exactly healthy). I’m getting really tired of this, and really, really want my old life back.
> 
> Anyway, I am still going to try writing whenever I’m able, and also try to update another one (or more) of my stories before I come back to this, but I can’t guarantee that.

If you were outside, the sound of crickets and the night would be the only sounds you would hear in the woods. There was also the occasional hoot of an owl, footsteps of animals, and other animal sounds, but other than that, the night was quiet and peaceful.

However, if you were to enter a lavish mansion located in an open spot in this forest, which glowed orange and gold in the first half, and exhibited an otherworldly feel, you would find that the setting of it was the complete opposite.

Especially when you walk into its ballroom.

The ballroom was full of music, laughter, lights, and enjoyment as the guests danced to their heart's content on the dance floor. Yet, as the guests, and the residents of the manor, danced to their pleasure, Arthur could feel nothing.

He felt nothing as he watched the various kinds of guests dance with each other and/or by themselves, when those very guests would look up at him with poorly concealed greed and lust, when the painting ghosts danced among the guests, when the electrobeats danced their own kind of dance near the ceiling and the chandeliers, when the orchestra played its beautiful music, or when the room shone.

The ballroom changed somewhat though, thanks to Mordred’s presence, and now, the walls had portions of green rather than only pure gold, the chandeliers burned with the occasional green fire, half of the floor tiles were green, and even the throne next to Arthur’s was light green in color.

Arthur stole a brief glance at Mordred, seeing that the other ghost was smiling (well, from what he could tell from a skull), his legs crossed and arms rested on the throne’s, and his eyes staring down at the crowd below as he enjoyed the party silently. His throne, as well as Arthur’s, were magnificent, each of their coffins having disappeared many minutes ago, as it was quite tall, appeared quite sharp, and was dark green in color with traces of lighter shades of green decorated on it. It also contained a plush seat that was also dark green in color.

Arthur’s throne, on the other hand, is what Arthur considered to be softer in appearance, even though it was just as tall as Mordred’s. It was a bright sunrise orange in color with some yellow and hints of gold mixed in, while the seating was bright yellow. However, unlike Mordred’s, Arthur’s throne sparkled in the lighting.

Arthur never understood why Mordred felt the need to add thrones to this place, for he sure as hell wasn’t royalty, and therefore saw no need to act like it, but, typically, his green half didn’t listen.

Eventually, he learned to go with it. It didn’t matter, anyway.

Arthur looked back down to the dance floor below, watching as the guests and other residents of the manor continued to dance. He couldn’t stop a sad frown from appearing on his face, and he didn’t understand where it came from.

Strangely, not even the beautiful music, the brilliant room, or the dancing supernaturals below eased that mood. It even made him want to retire early.

“What are you sad about now?” Arthur looked up, and saw that Mordred was staring over at him, his skull set in a frown, but that was the only change that he saw in his stance.

Arthur looked away. “Nothing,” he said.

“Sure,” said Mordred sarcastically, “and someone would need to be a complete fool to not be able to see that frown of yours from far away.”

Arthur’s eye twitched. “I would appreciate it if you would not try to start another argument every ten seconds,” he said.

Even though he didn’t see it, Arthur could practically feel Mordred rolling his eyes. “There isn’t anything for you to be upset over, partner, but I sincerely hope you aren’t holding on to the feelings you had in the music room.”

“And what if I am?” Arthur asked heatedly.

“Then you’re nothing but a pathetic masochist,” answered Mordred, unfazed. “And again, you should’ve had plenty of time to get over those two. After all, haven’t you admitted yourself that they were better off without you?”

“Shut up Mordred.”

“Too bad, boy. Do you really think I’m that stupid? I was, after all, in your body that day, so I was able to see your memories, and felt what you were feeling during that time and during those times they left you behind. Even you have to admit that those two were nothing but selfish, arrogant, blind children who threw you away after you were no longer useful to them, and even kept putting you in danger despite knowing how vulnerable you were to the supernatural, even ignoring your warnings about many places. And now, here you are, thanks to them, and holding on to something you never had.”

Arthur didn’t answer, and he bit his lip to keep himself from outright sobbing, even though some tears did escape. He didn’t want to admit it, but Mordred was right. Once Vivi and Lewis got together, he didn’t matter to them, and even when he tried to warn them of the dangers of their jobs, they would always insist that everything would be alright despite the obvious signs. Then every time, Arthur would be on the receiving end of getting kidnapped, of nearly being sacrificed by cults, of nearly being raped by all genders, and many other things he didn’t want to remember.

But he always got off lucky because Vivi, Lewis, and Mystery would save him at the last moment, and the fact that they cared enough to save him from those situations was enough for him to stay with them, as knowing that he mattered to them was all he needed, even when it hurt so much when they would forget about him.

Then that changed, and now look what happened. Him, dead and out of the Mystery Skulls’ hair, and holding on to what he never had in the first place, just as Mordred said.

Why did he even bother?

Still, even when he knew that they were finally rid of him, Arthur wanted to see them again, just once, even if it was from afar, and even see his uncle again.

And even still, he couldn’t understand why Mordred wouldn’t grant him just one or two weeks to do just that.

Arthur turned back to the ballroom below, watching as everyone continued to dance without a care to what happened up on the dais. Of course, when Arthur looked closer, he did see Elizabeth look up at him in concern even while she was dancing, as did Martin, Joseph, and Antonio, and when he looked up the ceiling, he saw that the electrobeats were crying a little.

He looked away, saying nothing. Mercifully, or not, Mordred also fell silent as they continued to watch the party below.

But then the music changed, and Mordred glanced back at him.

“If you are so bored, why don’t you join them?” he asked.

Arthur didn’t answer, causing Mordred to sigh in irritation.

“Fine then, be that way.” He then stood up from his throne, moving to walk towards the dais’ stairs as his human projection appeared in a flash of green. “Feel free to join us, because I really don’t want to spend the entire ball being trapped in your sorrowful bubble.” The green ghost then walked down the stairs without waiting for a reply, not that Arthur was going to give one of course.

As for Arthur, he watched Mordred walk down the stairs and towards the floor, everyone creating a path for him that looked similar to the Red Sea. Then, as the music became more intense, Arthur could practically feel Mordred’s smirk as he began dancing.

His moves were sensual, practiced, controlled, and powerful, which almost felt odd considering the fact that Arthur was looking at his own reflection. Granted, he never knew what Mordred really looked like, only that his appearance changed to his real one whenever they were far enough away from each other (and he didn’t know how that worked), and Mordred never really talked about it, as if it wasn’t of any importance to him. However, Arthur felt it was much, much more than that.

Damn Mordred for his success in driving Arthur crazy with frustration.

Regardless, as Arthur continued to watch, Mordred’s dance caused many of the guests to turn their attention to him, stopping their own dances in response, with many of them being enraptured by his moves. Even Arthur had to admit that Mordred dancing was quite a powerful and sensual thing to behold, as he looked like he had been performing and practicing that kind of a dance for hundreds of years or perhaps more, and the sheer confidence in his stance and aura would draw anyone in.

Eventually, Arthur looked away, his eyes wandering around the people in the ballroom until his eyes landed on the painting ghosts. Unlike many of the guests who stopped to watch Mordred dance, they were still dancing, and Arthur could feel a small smile appear on his face as he watched each of them.

The one he spotted first was Antonio, and he was currently dancing with a partner, his movements fast, intense, appealing, and powerful. It didn’t take much on Arthur’s end to figure out that the man was dancing tango, something that his current partner was matching, though he didn’t really check to see what his partner looked like or who they were.

The next he spotted was Joseph, and Arthur took note that he somehow looked five times more classy than he normally would, and, like Antonio, he was also dancing with a partner, his movements also powerful, precise, and possessing a kind of grace that only men of the time period he came from would achieve with enough practice. He mostly took the lead with his partner, bowing before them like the way a gentleman in the centuries before would greet a lady, and he positioned his partner into poses that showed the both of them off equally.

Arthur sighed when he saw this. He always thought the waltz was an amazing dance to watch, but he had never seen anyone perform it in his life, whether with a partner or otherwise. Hell, he doubted that Vivi and Lewis could even hope to match Joseph’s pace and expertise.

He violently shook his head. Stop it Arthur, it doesn’t matter anymore. Stop thinking about it.

Quickly looking away, Arthur spotted Martin, and, like with the other male painting ghosts, he was dancing with a partner, and his outfit looked better fit for the dance he was performing. Arthur couldn’t remember what kind of dance it was, but it was a dance that spoke of grace, power, agility, and intimacy, which almost made Arthur start laughing, as Martin was The Priest, and he was being quite intimate with a partner, something he never thought would be possible for someone like Martin.

Then again, not all priests were the same, even ghost ones.

Finally, Arthur looked at Elizabeth, who was the closest to the dais. Unlike her fellow ghosts, she was not dancing with a partner, and her dance was not as intense as theirs, but it was obvious that she was skilled in this one. Not only that, but while her dance was meant to match slow, delicate, classical music, she was still dancing along to the pace of the fast and intense music, which made her look ten times more powerful and agile than she would when she would be slowly dancing.

As he watched them, Arthur suddenly felt alone and out of place from where he was, like he didn’t belong. It was a feeling he was too familiar with.

He resisted the urge to punch himself. _What the hell is wrong with you, Arthur Kingsmen?! Can’t you stop feeling sad for once in your afterlife?!_

Besides, he did have the option to go down there and join them. It wasn’t like anyone or anything was stopping him.

Arthur flinched to himself. That’s right, nothing was stopping him; he could join them whenever they want. He wasn’t in Tempo anymore, was no longer around Lewis and Vivi to feel like a burden and be in constant pain as a result. Here, he could be himself, not worry about what anyone thought of him, and could genuinely have _fun_.

What was he doing, subjecting himself to this, when he had plenty of options to ignore and get over it?

So, upon realizing this, Arthur stood up, and proceeded to walk towards the staircase and to slowly proceed down them, his human projection appearing in a swarm of gold lightning. Mordred was right again; he should join them. No point mellowing about the past when it was supposed to be behind him now.

As he walked down the stairs, Arthur felt more eyes on him than they had on Mordred, but ignored them as best he could as he approached the dance floor, just where Elizabeth happened to be.

For the occasion, her dress was shorter, with the skirt reaching her knees, her gloves gone, and her feet being inside light purple pointe shoes that contained satin silk ribbons that wrapped around her calves and lower legs. She continued to dance to herself as Arthur approached her, smiling at him and possessing an aura that was full of acceptance, but at the same time concern. It felt a little weird, that Elizabeth’s face and body language showed no worry, but her aura would say otherwise.

Arthur bowed to her, and she gracefully bowed back before she went back to dancing. Then, at the right moment, she ran towards him, throwing herself into his waiting arms.

Due to the both of them being dead, their weight meant nothing anymore, and Arthur easily lifted Elizabeth into the air, where she posed limply for a moment before she swung herself to balance on his outstretched arm, her balance perfect and controlled even when Arthur moved around the dance floor. Her feet were perfectly curved, her body straight and controlled, and so graceful in her attitude position.

Then, Elizabeth fell, allowing Arthur to catch her in a dip, to which she posed again before her partner brought her upright again. From there, they moved about the room in the way a waltzing couple would, except Arthur would sometimes allow Elizabeth to dance on her own, where she would proceed to perform the chaînés a few times and even to pirouette, whether it would be by herself or while Arthur was behind her.

Then, Arthur and Elizabeth were close to Antonio and Martin, who were still dancing with their current partners, but were nearing the end of it.

Elizabeth smiled at Arthur. “Thank you for the dance, Master Arthur,” she whispered to him. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Arthur smiled at her, a genuine smile that felt more true than ever. “Better than ever,” he said. Then he looked at Antonio, who would next to him. “Ready to dance, Wrestler?”

Antonio smirked at him. “You bet I am, Master!”

Seeing that Martin had also decided to join the fun, Arthur spun Elizabeth around him a few times before sending her Martin’s way, still spinning, while he went to Antonio, who now abandoned his previous partner. From there, the dance that the two men performed was intense, intimate, and powerful as Arthur matched Antonio’s moves in almost every way, all while avoiding the hands of the other guests that tried to snatch him to dance.

Antonio mostly took the lead, being the larger man of the two of them, and would sometimes make Arthur spin so fast that Arthur could’ve sworn he caused the floor to catch on fire with each spin, though he didn’t stop to check. Of course, due to being dead, he couldn’t get dizzy anymore, which was a bonus, especially since he was having too much fun.

His previous sadness had been forgotten, and he couldn’t be anymore happier about it.

Then, Martin came back with Elizabeth, and Arthur smiled up at Antonio.

“Thank you for the dance,” he said.

“El gusto es mío,” replied Antonio, just as Elizabeth came close to him and Arthur was sent towards Martin.

Like with Antonio, Arthur’s dance with Martin was intense, agile, and passionate, and sometimes the two men would switch partnership depending on the tone of the song they were dancing to, though Martin mostly allowed Arthur to take the lead considering that he was a little shorter than him and often enjoyed being lead more often. Still, the both of them were smiling big the entire time, and Martin even helped Arthur avoid any prying hands that aimed to steal him away.

Eventually, the two men bowed to each other in the conclusion of their dance, just as Joseph was coming around.

“Good luck, Master,” said Martin, just as he was swept away by another person to dance with them.

Arthur waved after Martin, then turned around to face Joseph, who was bowing before him with a hand held out. “Evening, Master,” greeted The Judge. “May I have this dance?”

Arthur smiled, taking Joseph’s hand. “Of course.”

Smiling back, Joseph lead Arthur away, then immediately spun him around, but Arthur was quick to catch up and was prepared, allowing Joseph to spin him around, dip him, and even to lift him into the air when it was convenient. By this time, Arthur was laughing and smiling at the same time, and he could faintly hear Joseph laughing along with him. Once again, he wondered how he almost denied himself this fun.

Of course, as they danced, Arthur easily continued to dodge the attempts of theft from other guests, even with his eyes closed. Eventually, when the new song came to an end, Arthur and Joseph pulled away from each other, and bowed in thanks, not saying a word before they both became lost in the crowd.

Arthur wasn’t concerned however, and he continued to dance with joy.

Still laughing and cheering to himself, Arthur proceeded to dance through the crowd, dodging any hands and bodies that got too close. He allowed his body to move to the music, to guide him, and to overwhelm his every undead sense. He no longer cared where he was, who was watching, or what weight had been on him so long ago now. All that mattered now was this moment, the music, the dancing, everything about it. There was no room for regrets, for sorrow, or for guilt; there was just happiness, enjoyment, and enlightenment.

He could be in place forever, and he wouldn’t even care.

That was, until he heard a familiar voice.

“I see you’ve decided to join us, partner.”

Arthur resisted the urge to groan in frustration as he opened his eyes to look at Mordred, who was still dancing, but was smirking at him knowingly.

He hated that look. “I simply saw no point in simply watching,” he replied, still dancing himself.

Mordred’s smirk widened. “Glad to see that you decided not to be a little indecisive brat, for once.”

“I hope you aren’t trying to start a fight with me, Mordred,” Arthur warned.

Mordred scoffed a laugh. “Of course not! I was simply welcoming you.”

“Right.”

The two bound ghosts said nothing else for several moments, continuing to dance like nothing was wrong, though Arthur was still a little irritated that Mordred had interrupted him while he was having his moment, because now he couldn’t really get the full feeling back.

Though, he stopped, right in time with Mordred and the other guests and resident ghosts, the first of the latter screaming and roaring in rage at the interruption, while Mordred’s eyes were glowing bright and his smile became sinister in nature.

"What is it?" Arthur asked, even though he had a feeling he knew the answer.

“My my,” Mordred said, voice dark, like he didn't hear Arthur. “Looks like we have intruders.”

Arthur didn’t say another word, and immediately felt a little hostile himself when the guests began to disperse, still screaming and roaring in pure rage and bloodlust. When Arthur glanced at some of them, a few had sharp teeth and claws that looked sharp enough to slice through anything like butter, and from that he knew that some were ready to rip apart the very causes of the interruption.

An ability they simply didn’t have here.

“What are you going to do?” asked Arthur wearily without looking at Mordred.

Mordred’s grin got wider, and by now it took up the entire lower half of his face, showing sharp teeth that had not been there before. “It’s been awhile since I had some fun with little pests,” he said. “What else?”

“Don’t you dare, Mordred,” Arthur warned. “Don’t you dare do anything.”

Mordred cackled. “What makes you think you can stop me?” He turned back to the guests. "Don't worry everyone. It's just a little inconvenience. Return to the festivity! I will be back shortly." Then, before Arthur could say another word, the green ghost disappeared with another laugh.

“Mordred!” Arthur called over the cheers of the guests, who then went back to dancing without much thought to what Mordred just said, though the irritation remained heavy in the air. He stared at where Mordred used to be in silence for a few moments, before gritting his teeth.

This was not good. Not good. Not good. Not good. Not good. Not good. Not good. Not good.

A chirp was heard beside him, and Arthur looked to see his electrobeats were back to his side at this point, their expressions frightened and concerned. He pursed his lips in worry.

"Come on," he said. "We need to go after Mordred."

The electrobeats chirped worriedly and fearfully, but otherwise followed orders as Arthur immediately excused himself from the ballroom and zoomed through the mansion towards the outside.

Mordred wanted to play, and when that happened, literal Hell breaks loose every time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The painting ghosts have two different dance styles each; Elizabeth’s styles are ballet and waltz, Joseph’s are waltz and tango, Antonio’s are tango and paso doble, and Martin’s are rumba and ballet. I’m also happy to announce that the Mystery Skulls will finally be appearing again very, very soon, and I’m quite eager to get to them.
> 
> Spring break is coming up for me this next Monday, so I am going to try updating another of my stories (or more) during that time, but I’m also going to be busy with studying for another exam, writing another paper, and some other homework. I also want to use that time to spend time with my family, so I can’t guarantee that I will be able to update that story (or stories). Of course, since the coronavirus is now here in Wyoming, there’s the possibility that my classes will be closed for another week for everyone’s safety. However, my university has been creating the suggestion of switching the in-class sessions to online classes, which I’m really concerned about considering the possibility that some of my classmates don’t have a lot of access to technology, so I’m hoping it will not come to that.
> 
> Of course, I just want to point out that while I understand the concern of the virus (because, like all illnesses, it’s not pleasant and can be potentially fatal), it’s important to keep a positive outlook and stay calm while we gain as much information as possible. We’re not living in the fourteenth century anymore, and it really feels like the ebola panic all over again. Again, I understand everyone’s concern, but seriously, they need to calm. Down.
> 
> Anyway, have a happy and safe Spring Break everyone, if it also starts this next Monday for you.


	11. Dance with the Devil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger warning: Graphic violence, torture, and body horror ahead.******

“Are you sure we should be here? It’s fucking cold out.”

“Don’t be a pussy. Besides, this should only be quick.”

“Define your definition of ‘quick’. We don’t even know where we’re going.”

“Just trust me on this. It’ll be worth it, especially when we finally prove to everyone that the “Man of Lighting” and the “Green Man” don’t even exist!”

“I...guess, but still, how are we going to find our way in a _forest_? We could get lost for all we know!”

“Ah, I know these forests like the back of my hand. We’ll be fine.”

“O-Okay…”

Three emerging adults walked through the forest, aided only by their flashlights as it was still dark. The sounds of the forest echoed around them, which would occasionally be broken by the sound of the ground being disturbed by their feet, creating a repeated crunching sound. The young adults were also dressed in heavy clothes, as it was chilly out, so they weren’t too worried about freezing to death for being out here for too long.

In addition, one of them, who could only be identified as the nervous one, looked around at their surroundings nervously. At night, the forest was always so fucking creepy, as the entire thing was like a maze that was just asking for people to get lost in, and yet here they were, searching for a myth.

Everyone had heard of the Man of Lightning and the Green Man, but despite their nervousness, and like their two friends, they couldn’t bring themselves to believe it. Like, come on, ghosts don’t exist, much less any guardian angels or demons!

Though, while their friends thought it would be a good idea to attempt to debunk the myth (and at _night_, no less), they really didn’t want to be the ones to do it.

Finally, they spoke up.

“Uh, are you sure you know where we’re going? We don’t even know where to even begin looking.”

Their friend, the apparent leader of their little group, glanced over their shoulder to glare. “Are you deciding to be a chicken?” they asked.

“T-That’s not what I’m saying!” was the protest. “It’s just that even if we find the so-called house that the Man of Lightning and the Green Man reside in, we don’t even know where to start to find it!”

“Oh my god, stop worrying! It’s not like we’re searching for a mountain lion or a bear! We’ll be fine, so quit your whining!”

Their eye twitched. _Asshole_, they thought, but otherwise went quiet as they continued to walk further into the forest.

As they went deeper, the sounds of the town from behind them faded until only the sounds of the forest surrounded them. It was a little disturbing; how sound could get lost in a forest, and they could only hope to debunk this thing and get it over with.

Eventually, it seemed like they were in the middle of the forest, where they spotted an open area in the forest. They thought this was odd, for what kind of forest would have this big of an open spot, and upon walking into it, they saw a rundown house that looked like it was barely holding on. Walking closer to it, another of their friends spoke.

“Didn’t the legend say that the house was supposed to appear like a rundown house?”

Their leader smiled. “Apparently. It really looks ugly as fuck. No one, not even a _ghost_, would want to stay in this thing.”

No one said a word for a moment. “Well, we found it, so what are we going to do now? Just sit here and wait for something to happen?”

The leader smirked. “Exactly.”

They could only stare incredulously at their friend. “Are you crazy?” they hissed. “We found what we’re looking for, so can we just go back now?”

“Stop being a pussy! It’s not like we’re going to be here all fucking night! I told you to quit your whining!”

“But--”

“That’s enough! Both of you! Look, let’s get this over with, and then we can finally go home.”

They could only slump. “Fine,” they grumbled, “but if anything happens, this is all your fault.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

So, they moved to sit down at the front of the rundown little house, waiting for...well, something weird to happen. All around them, the night continued to pass them by, ignoring what they were doing in their pursuit, and the various lifeforms in the forest continued on with their lives as well. A light breeze flew through the open area, adding to the cold, and they could only bring their jackets closer to themselves.

Oh why, oh why did their friend think this was a good idea?

Or, better yet, why the fuck were they even friends with them?

Oh, that’s right, because no one else would hang out with them! They were, after all, the weird kid on the block, a skeptic who did not believe in the paranormal unlike almost all of the people in their town. Every day, people looked at them with pity because of it, and they couldn’t stand it, so they had very little friends.

These two were the only ones who were fellow skeptics in their town, so it was only natural that they would become friends with them. Well, that, and because they were desperate for any kind of friend who _understood_.

Eventually, many minutes passed, and nothing happened. The house remained the same, the landscape remained the same, and nothing showed itself. The leader scoffed in confirmation, standing up.

“See?” he showed. “It’s nothing! There’s no such thing as the Man of Lightning or the Green Man! Wait until everyone hears about this!”

“That’s cool, but can we go back now? It’s fucking freezing!”

“Fine, fine; anything to quit your whining. Let’s go.”

Though, as they were about to leave, they froze.

What the…

When did the forest get closer to them when they barely moved?

They stared in bewilderment, wondering if they were hallucinating. They even looked at each other, wondering if they were crazy, but when they found they all saw the same thing, the dread began to appear.

Not only that, but they felt like they were being watched by something...evil.

“G-Guys,” they pleaded weakly. “Let’s just run, please.”

But they didn’t move. They were too busy staring into the forest, their eyes wide with horror.

“Guys?” they called, following their eyes. “What’s the matt--”

Oh…

oh...

_...oh god…_

They didn’t see it at first, but now, they could. The leaves were covered in so much _red_ that dripped to the soil below, while the bark pulsed with the color, causing it to sail down the entire thing with an ominous slowness.

And...and..._were those dead bodies?_

They began to shake, terror rooting them to the spot and leaving them unable to move, despite how much they willed themselves to move, to _run_. The evil presence behind them was growing stronger and stronger, and they could feel it getting closer and closer until it was about a foot away.

Then, as if lifted from a spell (or being put under one for all they knew), they all slowly turned around, their eyes coming into contact with black and green ones.

The owner of those horrifying eyes was a man, a lanky, short man with spiked green hair, sideburns that contained darker green stripes, a well-pressed and expensive-looking suit, trousers, shoes, and gloves, and...an inhuman grin that felt evil and predatory.

Tears burned their eyes at the fact hit them.

Oh god...oh god no…

This is him. The Green Man.

_He’s real. He’s real. He’s real. He’s real. He’s real. He’s real. He’s real. He’s real. He’s real. He’s real. He’s real. He’s real. He’s real._

** _HE’S FUCKING REAL._ **

They could only shake in raw terror as the figure continued to grin at them, his demonic eyes not blinking once and glowing an eerie green color with the pupils slit, just like a demon’s. They immediately thought back to the warnings of the townspeople.

_“Once you see the Green Man, you have become his next toy. If you see him, you better pray that the Man of Lightning is nearby to subdue him, or pray that you will be able to escape, because he will not stop until you are dead.”_

Dead…

...dead…

DEAD.

_DEAD._

**DEAD.**

** _DeAd._ **

“Guys,” they whispered, voice low despite their efforts. “Run.”

Their friends didn’t move.

Just then, they somehow managed to find their voice, and they screamed. “RUN!”

That snapped their friends out of their trance, and immediately, they took off running, the sound of an evil, demonic laugh following them throughout.

They ran through the hanging bodies, the fallen ones, the bloody ground, and even when drops of blood would land on them. They tried to avoid tripping over any fallen branches or protruding roots, all of which somehow appeared to be alive and were now attempting to slow down their pursuit.

All the while, the laughing followed them.

Against their better judgment, they glanced back over their shoulder, and nearly screamed and tripped when they realized how close the Green Man was. Not only that, but he was _flying_, easily able to keep up with their pace despite how hard they were running.

**_“WhY aRe YoU rUnNiNg?” _**called the sinister voice behind them. **_“I oNlY wAnT tO pLaY wItH yOu!”_**

“GO AWAY!” screamed the leader. “WE DON’T WANT TO PLAY WITH YOU, YOU FREAK!”

Somehow, the feeling of this entire thing felt more evil, angrier even, and they could only curse their friend for saying that.

Angered, amused, sinister laughter was heard behind them again, and they could only force themselves to run faster.

But...why weren’t they getting anywhere?!

They found themselves running in place, as if something had them glued to the ground or, better yet, attached to strings. Not only that, but where were they?!

When did they get back to the open area?!

Tears of frustration and terror burned their eyes, and they sailed down their cheeks without anything stopping them. They kept trying to run, but their lungs, their legs, even their entire body was getting tired, and eventually they all couldn’t run anymore, but they kept trying.

How long had they been running in the first place?

The sky looked brighter, but sometimes would appear dark or on the verge of becoming either one. Has it been days?

The laughter kept going on around them, even though the Green Man was nowhere to be seen. Sometimes it would sound like he was close, sometimes it would sound like he was far away, and sometimes he would sound like he was everywhere. They all would look everywhere, desperately trying to find where he was, but could never find him.

The area was becoming full of blood and dead bodies, many of which were looking like they were in various stages of decomposition, showing off their organs, maggots, and missing pieces of skin, muscle, and tissue. Others appeared completely fresh, and were on the verge of being ripped apart, the sound of torn flesh being heard for miles.

They tried to cover their ears, but somehow the sound remained loud and clear.

They wanted it all to stop. They _needed _it to stop.

SOMEONE PLEASE STOP THIS!

“PLEASE STOP!!” they pleaded, but the continued laughter and sound of flesh being torn apart was their answer. “PLEASE, PLEASE STOP!!”

They also thought they could hear the screams of their other friends, but they couldn’t focus enough to ensure that they were.

Everything hurt, and suddenly the air felt acidic. How long had they been here? Days? Weeks? Months? Years? An eternity? They couldn’t decide anymore, but one thing they did know was that they wanted it to end.

They were also sorry. Sorry that they ignored the warnings of the townspeople. Sorry that they became friends with these people. Sorry that they came here at all. Sorry that they decided to go. Sorry for so many things.

They wanted it to end, but why...why did it have to come to this?

Just then, the Green Man appeared before them and their friends, his grin not changing, and he was right in their faces, so close in fact that they could feel the sinister cold from him.

**_“PoOr, UnFoRtUnAtE mOrTaLs,”_** he taunted, his grin somehow getting bigger and more sinister as he stared right into their souls.**_ “ThErE iS a ReAsOn YoUr KiNd NeVeR lAsTs LoNg.” _**His chuckle was evil and inhuman. **_“NoW...iT’s TiMe tO sAy G O O D N I G H T!”_**

They all could only whimper, regretting everything all over again and wishing for death, just as they felt themselves being ripped apart from the inside out, their screams drowned out by their own bodies turning against them. Then, before they could understand what happened, their bodies exploded, sending blood, guts, brain matter, and bone everywhere, staining the open area that they had never left in the first place.

The pain mercifully stopped once their lives ended.

~~~

The grass was stained with so much blood, gore, brain matter, and bone, and Mordred could only grin maniacally as he took in his handiwork.

Those stupid fools.

Did they really think they would be able to do whatever they wanted in his territory? There was a reason why people were warned to never step into a dangerous animal’s territory, yet they chose to do so and die pathetic deaths anyway

Such _idiocy_. He can’t believe they existed.

He began to chuckle, then cackle, and finally began laughing into the night, which, thanks to his lack of lungs, allowed him to laugh as long as he wanted to without needing to take a breath.

How could he not laugh? Those measly mortals were so pathetic that he couldn’t help but find it hilarious!

Anyone in his position would say the same.

Eventually, Mordred sensed a familiar presence behind him, having just come out from the hidden mansion. The new arrival (or arrivals in this case) said nothing for many moments as they took in the scene with obvious shock and horror, some more so than others. Then, the whimpers of the electrobeats were heard, and even though Mordred wasn’t looking behind him, he knew that the little ghosts were moving to hide behind their master, terrified of his wrath.

“Mordred,” Arthur began slowly. Finally, Mordred turned around, seeing that his bound half was still in his human projection, looking between Mordred and the bloody scene in shock. “What have you done?”

Fully turned around at this point, Mordred shrugged. “Simply got rid of some bugs,” he answered calmly.

“Bugs? You killed _people_, Mordred,” Arthur corrected, still looking at him with wide eyes full of shock and horror. “They were not bugs.”

Mordred frowned, face going blank. “What’s the difference?” he asked. “Bugs? Mortals? They’re all the same thing. The only difference is their size and biology.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about, Mordred!” shouted Arthur, glaring at Mordred. “Don’t you see what you have done?!”

“Oh?” Mordred raised an eyebrow. “I don’t see anything wrong. Enlighten me, partner. What have I done?”

“You’re painting a giant target on our backs, that’s what!” replied Arthur, his form flickering with electricity. “And it’s only gotten bigger thanks to what you did!”

Mordred growled. “What I did?” he repeated. “Are you blind, boy? I’m not the one who decided to be a complete and utter fool by throwing caution to the wind just so I could satisfy my own personal greed. I know you’re not stupid, for you felt their intentions too! Even if they obtained the so-called proof of our existence, they would’ve destroyed everything we worked for!”

Arthur snarled at him. “There was another way you could’ve handled this!” he protested. “Yes, they have been close-minded, but that doesn’t mean they deserved this!”

“And what, pray tell, gives you the right to decide what humans do or don’t deserve?” Mordred countered angrily. “I hate to break it to you, _partner_, but you are no god.”

“Neither are you!” hissed Arthur. “In fact, you made that perfectly clear long ago, remember?! Not only that, but haven’t you told me all that time ago that you were done acting like a barbaric animal?!”

Mordred didn’t say a word, glaring at Arthur with growing and growing rage. “What. Did you say?” he asked, voice dangerously low.

“You heard me,” Arthur replied, undeterred by Mordred’s mood unlike the electrobeats. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, Mordred, but here you are, acting like an animal, and completely going against what you said months ago!”

“What do you know?!” demanded Mordred. “What gives you the idea that you think you know me, much less that you can tell me what to do?!”

“That’s the thing! I don’t know you, Mordred!” Arthur screamed. “Yes, I don’t have the right to tell you what to do, and yet here you are, getting out of control, and making things worse for us in the long run!”

“Well, guess what, boy, it’s too late!” Mordred screamed back, his own flickering form producing large amounts of a green mist. “The point is that those brats deserved it, and nothing you say or do can change that!”

“They didn’t deserve it!” Arthur protested, his snarl growing. “I know that much!”

“And how would you know?!” demanded Mordred. “If it hadn’t been for people like those brats, I wouldn’t be in this situation! In fact, neither would you!!”

Arthur’s eyes widened, and he immediately went silent upon hearing Mordred’s words. It took Mordred a moment after that to realize what he just said, and he growled to himself, immediately turning away from Arthur.

Why? Why did he say that?

Why did he say that?

Why?

Why?

_Why?_

For several moments, the area was dead silent, as no one said a word or made a sound, not even the electrobeats. Mordred didn’t need to look to know that the little ghosts were staring at him with surprise from behind their master, while also confused on what they just heard.

Mordred clenched his teeth as he felt his eyes burn. _Stop it Arthur,_ he thought. _Don’t you dare use your power on me._

“Mordred…” Arthur began to speak, but Mordred held up a hand.

“Don’t, just go,” he ordered, hating how weak his voice sounded. “I’m tired of you trying to understand me when you know nothing about me. I’m tired of you trying to place yourself on my level, and I refuse to lower myself to that!”

Mordred clenched his teeth as he felt his shoulders quivering, but he couldn’t stop them. He wanted to punch his bound half in the face for making him feel like this, for using his power here, but he didn’t. He feared that if he did, Arthur would know.

Thankfully, Arthur didn’t speak another word, and soon the sound of the other disappearing into the forest with the electrobeats was heard. Now Mordred was finally alone with the remains of the pathetic mortals, and he could only whisper under his breath as his shoulders continued to quiver and his nonexistent eyes continued to burn with unshed tears.

Damn Arthur for somehow finding a way to make him feel his power from this distance.

“I hate you, Arthur Kingsmen,” he whispered, unable to speak any higher. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m really not in the best of moods right now. First of all, my oldest sister was forced to return home with her boyfriend (who I barely know) to escape the lock-down in Austin, Texas (and it’s not good), so I feel like I’m in a prison right now (as I always get when someone I never grew up with stays in my own home with me), and now I’m worrying about staying healthy in a house with a complete stranger and also worrying about my other sister who is far away from Wyoming.
> 
> Next, I’m also losing my mind from being in lock-down for so long (even though I know I’m better off than several people, especially those who live in cities like my sister does), and feel like I can’t do what I love doing outside without feeling like I’m in danger all the time (though keep in mind I live in a small city).
> 
> And then I heard from one of my favorite authors in the Mystery Skulls Animated fandom that there was the chance that she may not survive the pandemic for reasons unknown, though there is the implication that she either does not have a strong immune system or has a medical condition that makes her vulnerable to the virus.
> 
> The latter was not something I wanted to wake up to, and I’m really not happy that she is not being positive about the situation and had to place that burden on her fans. Now, I’m probably going to spend the next several months worrying about her and if she and her family are going to be alright.
> 
> Granted, I understand that she wants her fans to be aware of what could happen (and I have dealt with the deaths of a favorite author and director (which was really traumatizing and took a very long time for me to get over), but I really don’t like how negative she is being about this situation. I’m really sorry about venting like this, but I really needed to do it through this chapter and this note here.
> 
> Anyway, now that classes are going to be starting this next Monday, things are going to be a little different for the rest of the semester, obviously. Regardless, I’m going to be focusing on Iactura and The Silent Darkness for the time being, so expect to find more updates towards the both of them in the near future.


	12. Rain, Rain, Let Me Fade Away

_“No, no please! No! Let go of me! Let me go! Stop! Stop it! Please, stop! Let go!”_

_His pleas fell on deaf ears as he was dragged towards an altar of some kind, and one that was stained brown, a substance that he could only identify as long dried up blood. His stomach churned at the sight, and if he hadn’t known of it already, he would understand then what was to become of him._

_That, and the chanting that was going on around him._

_He couldn’t understand their words, as they were speaking in a language he didn’t know, and he thought he knew for sure that it wasn’t Latin or anything close to Latin. He continued to struggle against those dragging him to the altar, but lucky for him, they were much, much stronger than his lanky, twig-sized self. Their grip was painfully tight, and he thought he felt the circulation being cut off throughout his arms._

_It was not a pleasant feeling, that he will admit._

_He continued to plead. “Please, let me go! I don’t want to die! Please, let go! Stop it! Please!”_

_Once more, he was ignored, and by the time he stopped pleading for breath, which was quite convenient since he hit something that was so _painful_, he was thrown upon the altar easily, the breath being knocked out from him from the force. He found himself choking on his own breath, coughing and hacking, which only seemed to make things worse somehow._

_The chanting somehow got louder in his ears, and he felt his arms and ankles being pinned as someone in a cloak stepped forward._

_He couldn’t make out their features thanks to their hood, other than their pale chin and mouth but he knew this had to be the leader._

_And in their hands was a knife, a beautiful one that appeared to be made of pure silver and had a pommel that was decorated with sparkling jewels. However, the beauty of the sharp weapon being removed from its leather sheath only served to make him even more sick with fear._

_“It is time!” chanted the leader. “The dark one will be upon us soon! With the blood of this pure, powerful soul, we offer to you, dark one! Lead us to prosperity and a brand new world!”_

_The leader then raised the knife above their head, ready to land the killing blow on his chest._

_He could only squeeze his eyes closed, even though tears leaked through, and scream out._

_“VIVI! LEWIS! HELP ME!!”_

_The knife sailed through the air towards him. And by the time it nearly touched its mark, he immediately understood._

_No one was coming for him. He was all alone, and has always been alone. No one would come for him._

_No one._

~~~

Arthur gasped as he was brought out from his thoughts by the touch of an electrobeat, who chirped at him in concern. He could only stare at the little ghost for a moment before he sighed tiredly, running a hand through his electrical hair.

“I’m alright,” he reassured quietly. “It was just a bad dream.”

A bad dream? Or a memory? Arthur couldn’t tell which was which anymore. Sometimes he would dream of something that would mix the both of them, and he had long thought he was no longer capable of dreaming. It was freaky, and Arthur wasn’t sure if he liked it.

One thing’s for sure though; he wouldn’t have missed it if he wasn’t capable.

Arthur then looked off towards the horizon, realizing that the sun had long since risen. He stared right at the star, feeling no burning or temporary blindness like he would have had he still been alive, and he could only sigh again.

“Tell me,” he began, “how long have we been out here?”

Another electrobeat chirped, and Arthur once more sighed, heavier this time once he heard the answer.

“Two days, huh? Heh, looks like a record. Mordred really got me good there,” he mused.

Did he, though? Arthur couldn’t tell anymore, and he wasn’t sure if he could find out. His mind began to drift back to the sight of Mordred that...vulnerable, something he had not once seen in the other, and then thought of the words he said.

No, scratch that. This was the second time, and Arthur didn’t think he would be taken off guard a second time. But he had, and now look at what happened. He was confused, and so, so lost, unsure of what to do.

What did Mordred mean? What happened to him for him to become the way he is? And why was he so determined to keep it a secret?

All these questions were making his skull hurt, and Arthur wasn’t sure what to do. He knew that Mordred did not just become a demon unless he had been born that way, but thanks to all the months he spent with him, Arthur knew that wasn’t true. He thought back to one quote he thought he saw once, and even heard a couple people say a few times.

_“Evil is not born, it’s made.”_

Arthur was very, very familiar with that term, and agreed with it completely. After all, no one was born evil; something had made them that way, directly or indirectly, and from Mordred’s case, something or..._someone_ turned him into this.

That malicious glee as he killed those three adults, his indifference to what he had done, how elated he was…

_What happened to him?_

Once more, Arthur doubted that Mordred would answer his questions, and he could only mutely sigh once more.

He couldn’t return to the mansion just yet, as, knowing Mordred, he wouldn’t be welcomed back, even if the green ghost would be on the other side of the mansion, hiding from everyone and everything again. Not only that, but Arthur could only feel that this was worse than all those times when Mordred would come back in those horrible moods, and certainly did not want to be on the receiving end of another argument, and one that could probably be worse than all the ones they’ve had.

Still, Arthur couldn’t understand. Why was this having such an effect on him anyway? It wasn’t like Mordred would tell him anything, and why the hell should he care about someone like that man, the very being who almost killed his best friends through him? He didn’t need to know anything about him at all!

...But he did, didn’t he?

After all, Mordred knew so much about him, yet Arthur knew very little about him, which, by itself, felt unfair. Not only that, but being the more powerful of the both of them (considering how old he is), Arthur had no choice but to obey Mordred in certain scenarios, and he knew that when the other ghost told him he wasn’t to go back to Tempo or wasn’t allowed to check on the Mystery Skulls or their families, Arthur had no choice but to obey.

Arthur stood up, walking towards a nearby cliff that oversaw the valley below. It was still covered with tons and tons of trees, which obscured the ground and seemed to go on for miles. It was always so weird to Arthur that he now resided in these places most of the time, especially since Tempo was a desert town that did not have any forests for people to go into, no mountains even.

His nonexistent eyes stung again, and once again without his consent, the tears proceeded to trail down his cheekbones.

He made no move to wipe them away. There was no point.

Then, looking up to the sky, Arthur was surprised to see that he could no longer see the sun at this point, the clouds blocking all view of the star and the blue sky, turning the sky a dark grey and where he could hear distant thunder.

He laughed bitterly to himself. “Time really doesn’t matter to me anymore,” he mused. “It’s really, really pathetic, isn’t it?”

Not one of his electrobeats made a sound, but Arthur could feel their sad auras.

He slowly shook his head. There wasn’t a point anymore.

“Let’s go,” he said, walking towards the cliff while summoning his cloak to appear around him. “I doubt Mordred will want us to come back right now, but I’m in no hurry to go back. Let’s wander for a little while longer.”

The electrobeats perked up, immediately retreating into Arthur’s anchor as the ghost continued to walk towards the cliff. Looking down below, he flinched when he saw what was below.

_So much green, green stalagmites._

Arthur violently shook his head, and when he looked again, the trees greeted him. He slumped a little.

_I really haven’t gotten over that, have I? _he asked himself. _I’m so sorry, Vivi, Lewis, Mystery, Uncle Lance. I’m so sorry, everyone._

Without another thought, Arthur stepped over the ledge, and proceeded into freefall for a moment. However, that was only briefly, as he took that time to focus his powers to his back, allowing wings made of golden light to form and allow him to float above the trees.

Due to having his eyes closed at the time, Arthur opened them and glanced at the bright wings, finding it so strange that the light formed wings that appeared too similar to angel’s wings. It was always off-putting, to say the least, for he knew for sure that he was no angel, though far from a demon.

Hell, when Mordred used a similar power, his wings appeared quite similar to a demon’s, which Arthur thought was very fitting.

However, no matter how much Arthur tried to get the wings to change their appearance, they wouldn’t, so he gave up after awhile.

As the thunder continued to roar above him, lightning flashed, and rain proceeded to fall, Arthur began to fly across the treetops, loving the feeling of the air and rain on his skull as he flew, and he proceeded to perform some form of a dance in the sky, positioning his arms in a way that looked like he was offering himself to the heavens; sometimes he would fly towards the sky, knowing he was safe from the lightning if it were to ever strike him, and even when he got past the clouds, he would allow himself to fall back through them and towards the treetops until he went back to flying again; and he even proceeded to fly closer to the ground, going past animals, roots, and even flying down a waterfall before going down the stream.

Even though tears continued to trail down his cheeks, Arthur was smiling. He couldn’t understand why, or even why he was doing this after what happened, but, for some reason, he felt he had no choice. It was one of the only ways he felt free, unburdened by anything, and it was something he did not want to let go.

Besides, he was already dead, so it wasn’t like it was anything for him to worry about anymore.

He remembered _pain_, _grief, the coldness, the _**_screams_****. **_So much _**_red_**.

Arthur snapped his eyes open, and immediately he began to fall towards the earth, hitting tree branches on the way down, but he felt no pain. He cried out in shock and fear as he felt himself falling, and by the time he looked down, he immediately saw how close to the ground he was getting.

His eyes widened. While he wasn’t alive anymore (and therefore couldn’t die a second time), it still wouldn’t be pleasant if he didn’t right himself in time before he collided with the ground.

Arthur gritted his teeth, and immediately righted himself despite the branches cutting into his form, his clothes, and his cloak, until eventually, he landed on his feet, kneeling on the solid, wet ground, his wings fading away, his ripped cloak and clothes repairing itself around him, and the rain pouring on him with a fury while thunder roared and lightning flashed above.

He stayed in that position for quite some time before he stood up, staring at his reflection at a nearby pool of water that was forming because of the rain. A broken man in the form of a skeletal ghost looked back at him, skull void of any expression, and even when Arthur placed his human projection on, nothing changed.

Now his orange tears joined the rain, but, like always, they disappeared in shards of light when they hit the wet ground.

Chirps were heard again, and Arthur knew his electrobeats were out as they were now looking at him with concerned frowns on their faces. Arthur couldn’t even find the strength in himself to smile at them.

Instead, all he could say was, “Get back inside, everyone,” he ordered blankly, but gently. “I don’t want you guys getting wet.”

The electrobeats didn’t move, clearly hesitant.

This time, Arthur forced a smile on his face when he spoke up next. “I’m fine, really. Please, go back inside everyone. I’m not going to collapse when you disappear.”

The electrobeats once again hesitated, but only for a moment before they proceeded to chirp in acknowledgment and retreat back into Arthur’s anchor.

Well, all of them, that is, except for four, two of whom had blue eyes and stars, while the other two with magenta coloring.

Arthur stared at them a moment, saying nothing. He couldn’t help but take in the colors they had again. While they had orange auras, their other colors reminded him so much of Vivi and Lewis, for the colors were just so...similar to them.

More than once, he wondered if the electrobeats took on those colors to remind him of what he never had, or perhaps to bring him comfort in his afterlife.

Neither answer would be surprising at this point, but, now, Arthur wasn’t sure if he even wanted to know the answer.

Either way… “Why?” he asked quietly, despite the rain pouring around them. “Why are you four still out here?”

The four electrobeats chirped, making little motions with their stubby arms and even giving Arthur stubborn expressions that didn’t leave any room for arguments. Somehow it reminded Arthur of Lewis and Vivi once more, especially when it concerned him skipping meals and bedtime for his projects.

_“Vivi, come on, I’m almost done--”_

_“Arthur, it’s 3 a.m.! Go. To. Bed, you stubborn noodle!”_

_“But--”_

_“No ‘buts’, mister! Don’t make me carry you to bed!”_

_“You wouldn’t dare…”_

_A grin was his response. “Freaking watch me.”_

_…_

_..._

_“Lewis, really, I’m not hungry.”_

_The purple-haired behemoth of a man stared down at Arthur, clearly unimpressed with the smaller man. “Amigo…” he began, very slowly, “don’t make me force feed you, for I will and am not afraid to do it.”_

_Arthur stared up at the bigger man in horror. “You wouldn’t...would you?”_

_Lewis smiled, but there was nothing kind about that smile. “Try me, amigo.”_

Arthur sniffed, and more tears sailed down his cheeks. When did all that become a distant memory? When did everything change for them? Why did...why did Lewis and Vivi abandon him the way they did?

Had they really...been friends? Why would they ever abandon him like that? Did they even realize it, or did he simply not matter to them, just like Mordred said?

His anchor cracked a little at the thought.

The electrobeats chirped again, burrowing into Arthur’s cloak for a moment, and one of them even brought the hood over Arthur’s head despite the fact that he was already wet. He watched them mutely, before sighing for the thousandth time.

“Alright,” he said. “You guys can stay out here. I suppose...I could use the company for right now.”

The electrobeats smiled and chirped in triumph, then proceeded to stay out with Arthur as the latter proceeded to walk through the forest.

Granted, he didn’t have a destination in mind, only that he was walking, listening to the thunder and the rain, seeing the rain hit the ground as well as lightning light up the area momentarily, and even taking in the smell of the rain, wet grass, and other smells that one could associate with nature.

Eventually, Arthur found a stream, which he then proceeded to walk in, the coldness and the strong current not affecting him as he walked at his own pace, the electrobeats following loyally behind him. As he continued to walk, tears still streaming down his cheeks, he began to hum absentmindedly, not paying attention to what exactly he was humming, only that it was one that was speaking of something deep inside himself that he hated, so, so much.

He remembered walking in this forest once, finding a wounded hiker in the trees, having been attacked by a mountain lion and barely escaping. He was so out of it that he barely noticed Arthur’s approach, and even when he did, he didn’t react much, not even when he looked into Arthur’s otherworldly eyes.

Granted, that day had not been raining, but it had been dark out. Arthur immediately knew that the man would die if he did not do something, so, after tilting the man’s head to look at him, he had laid his skull against the man’s forehead, his power zooming through him and into the man.

Slowly, his wounds began to close, the blood he lost was absorbed back into his body, and the man finally went unconscious. After that, Arthur had the electrobeats take the man to the town near here, where he would be found by people who could help him.

Arthur never heard what became of the man, only that he managed to survive the ordeal, which he was happy about.

Soon, as he was humming, Arthur came across another cliff that led to a waterfall, and he had since left the stream at this point as he watched the rain and waterfall zoom past him. Even when thunder would crash and lightning would flash either in the distance or nearby, Arthur never turned his attention away.

The electrobeats had taken shelter in Arthur’s cloak at this point, mostly because they wanted to offer him comfort. Arthur knew the rain didn’t bother them, but it still wasn’t exactly a fun thing to be in for them. His anchor ached at this.

They were willing to go through that much trouble for him, and here he was, being a poison to everyone and everything he knew and loved.

Why couldn’t he just fade away?

One of the electrobeats chirped again, concerned, and Arthur could only smile weakly through his tears.

He then turned back to look into the distance.

“I’m actually jealous of the rain,” he said. “It comes and goes, able to fade away from existence, and we can’t, even when we should have long ago, when _I _should have. I guess...dying was always easier than living, huh? And yet, here I am, still among the living realm, and still feeling the way I did when I was living, only worse. I never thought this would happen to me, nor can I seem to stop feeling this way.”

The electrobeats didn’t make a sound.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur then whispered to them, sobbing mutely as he drew his cloak closer to himself. “I’m so, so sorry.”

The electrobeats gave weak chirps as they snuggled into Arthur, trying to comfort him as best they could; comfort he didn’t deserve. He could only cry harder as the storm went on, and, at the same time, could only pray that he would be able to fade like he should have long ago. He began to hum to himself again, this time able to discern the lyrics.

_Rain, rain, please let me leave._

_Rain, rain, help me escape._

_Rain, rain, let me fade away._

~~~

By the time Arthur and the electrobeats returned to the mansion, it was hours later, and the storm was still going strong.

“Master!” he heard Elizabeth call as soon as they got inside, as well as her footsteps getting louder as she rushed towards him. Glancing up through his hood, Arthur saw the female painting ghost running towards him, skirt in her hands to allow her better movement as she stopped before him.

“For Heaven’s sake, Master Arthur, you’re soaked!” she scolded, grabbing Arthur by the wrist as she proceeded to drag him even further into the mansion, the raindrops evaporating as soon as they hit the marble floors. “What were you thinking, going out like that without any warning?! If we were still alive, you would’ve killed all of us with worry!”

Arthur couldn’t find it in himself to chuckle at the irony of Elizabeth’s words. “I’m sorry,” he said. “But I’m fine, really. You don’t need to--”

“Ah ah ah,” Elizabeth held up her free hand, all without looking at him. “I don’t want to hear it. Now, you are going to take a bath and get warmed up and that’s final! I don’t want to hear a single complaint from you!”

Arthur blinked. “Elizabeth, you know that I don’t--”

“I don’t want to hear it!” Elizabeth continued to drag him even deeper into the mansion and towards the grand bath, even giving stern looks to the electrobeats still out with Arthur. “And as for you four and your comrades, I’m disappointed in you. I sincerely hope you did not encourage our master’s behavior?”

The electorbeats chirped weakly, trying to look as small as possible even as they tried to keep up with Arthur and Elizabeth, and if not for the fact that he would be in deeper trouble than he was now, Arthur would’ve laughed (maybe even cooed) at the sight.

Eventually, they arrived at one of the doors of the grand bath, to which Elizabeth not so gently pushed Arthur in. “Now, I am going to get the others and Master Mordred to ensure that you realize what the both of you have done, and you better be in the bath by the time I return, do you understand?”

Arthur would have disappeared if he was able at this time.

Elizabeth’s face somehow got darker when he didn’t respond immediately. “Do. You. Understand, Master Arthur?” she repeated, voice sickeningly sweet.

Arthur flinched. “Y-Yes!” he squeaked. _Wow, quite manly, Kingsmen._

Elizabeth nodded. “Good.” Then she faded from the spot, and Arthur almost sighed in relief when she finally left him alone, but didn’t dare to.

Somehow (or maybe not), that woman seemed to have eyes and ears everywhere, or maybe a ridiculous sixth sense. In fact, Arthur wouldn’t be surprised if the female ghost was able to grow eyes in the back of her head at times.

Either way, he went into the locker room next to the grand bath, his wet cloak and clothes disappearing off of him as his remaining electrobeats finally retreated into his anchor, leaving him alone. For a moment, Arthur contemplated going to one of the saunas in the room so he wouldn’t have to deal with the inevitable scolding he was going to receive from the painting ghosts (and have to be in Mordred’s presence after their recent argument), but ultimately decided to suck it up and walk into the grand bath anyway, even though he didn’t need to get warmed up to minimize the risk of getting sick anymore.

However, an angry Elizabeth was not something he wanted to deal with, nor did he want to provoke. He would never tell her this, but that female ghost scared the shit out of him, especially when she’s angry. In many ways, Elizabeth reminded Arthur of Mrs. Pepper, with her terrifying anger, her no-nonsense attitude, and her fiercely protective nature over her family and those close to them.

Arthur slumped as he thought of the stern yet protective and loving mother of the Pepper family, and suddenly wondered how she and her family were doing. Arthur didn’t want to admit it, but he missed Mrs. Pepper, as well as her husband and their three young daughters. In many ways, the Pepper family was like his second family after Uncle Lance, and they gave him so much support over the years, as if he was another member of their family.

It hurt all over again, thinking how they could have moved on without him. Even as Arthur got into the steaming water of the large bath and listened to the sound of the fountain nearby, he kept on silently crying.

He wanted to see them. He wanted to see them all, now more than ever.

Just then, the grand bath doors opened, and in walked the painting ghosts and...Mordred, now without any clothes of their own and not saying a word. Arthur didn’t look at them as they got into the water themselves, their gazes hot on him as they got comfortable. A few seconds passed, and then Elizabeth looked sternly at Mordred.

“Well?” she pressed. “Are you going to sit there and mope, or are you two going to apologize?”

Mordred glared at her, but Elizabeth easily ignored it, crossing her arms in front of her chest with one of her fingers tapping against her arm.

Antonio shifted nervously, while Martin mutely sighed and Joseph said, “Pardon me, Master Mordred, but I’m afraid but you should do as The Woman says.”

“Do. Not. Remind Me. Judge,” growled out Mordred.

Joseph went silent, but did not look perturbed by Mordred’s anger.

“I’m waiting, boys,” Elizabeth warned, tone dark with impatience as she glared at both Mordred and Arthur.

Arthur looked away reflexively (for how could he not?) while Mordred grumbled to himself and also looked away.

“There’s nothing to apologize for, Elizabeth,” the latter said. “You should not be angry over our latest argument.”

Arthur deadpanned. _What a way to dig your own grave again, Mordred._

Elizabeth stared at Mordred silently before a creepy smile appeared on her face. “I shouldn’t be angry?” she repeated. “As a matter of fact, Master Mordred, your “latest argument” as you call it does concern every one of us here.”

Mordred didn’t reply.

“Now, I’m waiting.” Elizabeth went back to glaring between Mordred and Arthur, tapping a finger against her arm as she waited to hear what she wanted to hear. The looks the other painting ghosts were giving them told Arthur to do so, and starting now.

Ultimately, Arthur gave in first. “I’m sorry everyone,” he said. “I didn’t mean to scare you...it’s just...Mordred and I needed to be alone for awhile.”

Arthur could feel Mordred’s glare on him, but didn’t look at him. He proceeded to explain their recent argument and its outcome, all while ignoring how Mordred’s glare seemed to only get hotter the more he talked.

By the time he was finished, Mordred was shaking with barely restrained rage, and the other painting ghosts turned to him, easily ignoring the other’s feelings for the time.

“Is this true, Master Mordred?” questioned Joseph.

Mordred said nothing.

Martin mutely sighed again as Joseph continued. “Master, you know you cannot keep this from us forever. It’s our duty to know what’s troubling you, and from the way you are acting, this is clearly troubling you in more ways than one.”

Mordred continued to remain silent.

Arthur looked at the other ghost. “What did you mean, Mordred?” he pressed. “What happened when you were--”

“STOP!” Mordred roared, the sound so powerful that the entire room, perhaps the entire mansion itself, shook. Everyone immediately froze, saying nothing as the water lapped against them, the walls of the bath, and a crack even appeared in the statue before either stabilizing or recovering respectively. All the while, Mordred’s teeth were clenched, and Arthur was shocked to see that tears were streaming down the other’s face.

“Stop it, Arthur,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “Stop it.”

Arthur blinked. “Stop what?” he asked, confused.

Mordred looked up at him to glare, all while tears continued to trail down his cheeks, visible for all to see. “You know what,” he spat, voice weak. “Stop using your powers on me!”

Arthur’s eyes widened in surprise. “I’m not,” he denied. “Mordred--”

Mordred suddenly stood up from the water, stepped out of the bath, and proceeded to fade away. “Don’t,” he demanded. “Stop it, Arthur. I’m not like you, I never will be like you! I refuse to be like those measly, weak humans! I refuse to be weak like you! I refuse! I refuse! I REFUSE!”

Then, Mordred was gone, leaving behind a room stunned into silence.

Arthur could only stare where Mordred used to be, lost and confused. What was Mordred saying? He hadn’t been using his power on him; surely he could see that! Yet, why would he come to that conclusion?

What was he hiding? Why did he want no one to know?

Arthur couldn’t understand anything anymore. He was so confused that he didn’t (or rather _couldn’t_) feel attacked by Mordred’s words, words that originated from feelings of confliction, self-defense, and despair.

Nothing about Mordred made sense anymore.

Then, after several minutes of complete silence saving the sounds of the fountain, Arthur heard the sound of water being moved, and looked up to see Elizabeth swimming over to him, to which she wrapped her arms around his head, bringing it close to her chest while also burying her face into his hair. It felt so strange, that Arthur could hear no heartbeat from Elizabeth’s chest, even when he expected it.

“Don’t scare us like that again, do you understand?” she whispered against his head. “You really gave everyone quite the scare, even Mordred. I understand that you needed time to yourself, but a warning would’ve been appreciated.”

Arthur’s mouth parted slightly. Mordred; worried about _him_? What the hell happened while he was out?

Or, better yet, what was happening to Mordred? Was Elizabeth talking about a different person? There was no way that Mordred of all people would be worried about _him_, Mordred, who tried to kill his <strike>loves</strike> best friends through him and for what? For fun?

Arthur didn’t say anything either way, and just allowed Elizabeth to embrace him with all her might, a strength that seemed to somehow rival Mrs. Pepper’s, all while the other painting ghosts sat where they were, silent as ever.

All the while, Arthur kept on crying silently, while Elizabeth mumbled comforting words into his ear; words that, while meant to comfort him, only worsened the pain.

His anchor cracked even more, so silent that even he barely heard it.


	13. White Forest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone please, please, please punch me in the face. I feel like I really need someone to do it for me.
> 
> Anyway, here’s a (very) short chapter, but the good news is that I will be updating two (hopefully long) chapters for next time, the last of which will have a surprise for all of you, so be on the lookout!

Such power.

There was so much power, coming from so many supernaturals being in the same place at once, ranging from weak ones to powerful and even to mildly powerful. She was even able to sense royalty, the fae, the most ancient creatures, and other angelic and demonic creatures in the same area at once.

As she dug through the ground, following the pedals above, she grumbled to herself when she realized she missed something quite astonishing. A ball, perhaps? It has been quite a long time since she had been to one, and she almost forgot what it was like.

She mentally shook her head. No, she wasn’t here for that. She couldn’t get distracted now.

She continued to dig through the ground, only to freeze temporarily when she felt the entire earth shake in response to a demonic scream of pure, unparalleled rage. In fact, it was so loud that she knew it was causing some form of a sonic boom across the land, rattling anything and any human unfortunate enough to be in its path. She could only be happy that she was in the ground at the moment and that the pedals she was following did not stop their rhythm above her.

Eventually, the earth started to get harder to go through, but she still easily managed. Whatever was causing those screams was impacting the environment around her, which meant that it had to be quite a powerful spirit.

It didn’t take long for her to recognize its aura, and she grinned.

Looks like she found what she was looking for. She couldn’t wait to test that spirit to see how powerful they were before they gave her what she wanted.


	14. Worlds Apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really not proud of this chapter, but I tried. I really am ready for the pandemic to be over, because I’m starting to develop cabin fever. Great…
> 
> Anyway, now that the semester is over for me, I was able to get these two chapters published. Hope you guys are staying safe and that you enjoy these chapters.
> 
> Finally, Happy Mother’s Day!

He couldn’t calm down.

_He couldn’t calm down._

** _He couldn’t calm down._ **

** _HE COULDN'T CALM DOWN._ **

**HE. COULDN’T. CALM. DOWN.**

Mordred’s screams were inhuman as he ripped his hands through his hair, pulling at the strands over and over until they separated from his skull, only for them to disappear into bouts of green mist before more would replace the places they used to be. This only infuriated Mordred more, and he could only scream once more as he slammed his fists into anything near him, whether they be trees, rocks, or the ground itself.

And every time his fist would come in contact with either of those things, the portion of the trees would be blown to pieces and would collapse to the ground, the rocks would immediately shatter and send its bits in all directions, and the ground also showed his imprint through the large cracks left behind that spread in all directions and even created mini earthquakes.

Not only that, but all plant life seemed to die around Mordred as he passed by, with the grass immediately turning brown and crusty, the trees losing their leaves and dying, and the few flowers in his path wilting.

Mordred knew that the townspeople would be able to hear his screams of rage and feel the earthquakes where they were if the sonic boom was any indication (and it was a wonder that it missed the town altogether), and they would immediately barricade themselves in their homes or wherever they were to escape his rage, praying that he would not think to turn his attention to their home and wreak havoc on it.

Mordred wanted to kill something, and he didn’t care what it was, as long as he could kill it. Just, anything to get him to _calm down_.

He contemplated going back to the mansion and killing everyone in it, Arthur included, but knew that they were no longer alive for him to kill them. He couldn’t kill the bugs near him, as they were too small to be considered worthy of his attention.

But he needed to shed some kind of blood, and anything will do.

Anything to calm him down.

He will not be weak, not ever again. He _refuses _to be weak! He couldn’t afford to be weak, especially now that he was a ghost! It was what got him into this position in the first place!

He refuses to be like Arthur! He will not be like that weakling! He refuses!

Mordred stomped through the forest, punching down anything that got in his way, but to his frustration, he couldn’t find anything, not.

A.

Single.

Lifeform.

He screamed demonically again in rage. Of _course_ the little pests that lived in this forest would immediately run and hide from him as soon as they heard him! He should’ve known!

Gritting his teeth, Mordred then turned his attention to the town and grinned. Maybe...just this once, he can break the rule and kill one of those measly humans living in that damned place.

Yes, yes, yes!

Oh, how Mordred wanted to rip human flesh apart again. How he longed for the feeling!

Even though he had his fun two days ago, it suddenly felt like it had been hundreds of years since he last killed a human.

He had been about to immediately fly that direction before something caught his eye. A glow of flying gold and green passed him by, and Mordred could only watch in irritation when he realized that they were flower pedals, specifically gold and green ones that stopped near him. As soon as they touched the ground, they didn’t decay, the strange glow they had around them disappearing shortly afterwards.

Mordred stared, wondering what the hell this was, until a white tree burst from the ground, followed by a head, arms, a full torso, and footless legs.

The figure stared at him, hand on her hip as she smirked at him, and Mordred could only grin back.

Looks like he didn’t have to go to that pathetic town after all.

**“HoW cOnViEnEnT,” **he said. **“sOmEtHiNg FoR mE tO rIp To PiEcEs.”**

The figure continued to smirk at him, clearly unafraid of him, but Mordred did not bother to think too hard into it.

With a sadistic cry of delight, he pounced, but the figure simply dodged, still smirking in amusement all the while. She even had the nerve to flick her hair in the meantime. Mordred growled angrily at the audacity as he immediately turned back around and threw blow after blow at the woman, only for her to simply dodge while retaining her smirk.

This continued for several minutes, with the figure at times effortlessly blocking his attacks. Normally this wouldn’t have been an issue, nor would Mordred’s attacks have been obvious, but, of course, he was in a rage, so of course it would be different.

Not only that, but he was getting angrier and angrier as this continued, and he screamed at her. “**_S T A Y S T I L L !_**” he demanded, voice demonic with rage. “**_L E T M E T E A R Y O U T O P I E C E S !_**”

The figure only chuckled at him, then, all of a sudden, a flash appeared in front of his eyes, hitting Mordred directly in the chest.

…

…

...

...w-...

...

What?

Mordred could only collapse to his knees in pain as he clutched his slashed chest. H-How--

How did she--

Mordred glanced up at the woman, now realizing that she had blue skin and an aura far, far more powerful than his own. Immediately all his anger disappeared, and Mordred could instantly feel a cold sweat forming at the back of his neck.

Shit.

Shit.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, _oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, _**_oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit_**

What has he done? What has be **fucking done?!**

Why did his anger get the better of him?!

All the while, the creature continued to smirk down at him, holding a pair of gardening shears that gleamed eerily in what little light the trees offered, and, at the moment, they were covered with a green substance, something that Mordred could only identify as something that belonged to him.

He shivered again, clutching at his chest painfully.

“W--” He choked. “Who...are you?”

The figure raised in eyebrow, a motion that felt mocking in nature, and her smirk was now replaced with a grin as she began to speak in a language that wasn’t English, but one that Mordred had not heard for quite a long time yet still recognized.

He was almost surprised that he could understand what she was saying at all.

「幽霊にとって、あなたはかなり強力です」、she said.「それでも、あなたが私が期待したものではないことはかなりがっかりです。」

“Who...are you?” Mordred demanded again.

Somehow, the creature’s grin widened at this. 「自分の名前を劣等な超自然人に明かす必要はないようです。」she said. She then walked up to him, kneeling as she had the tip of her shears touch his chin to tilt his face to look into hers directly.「さて、もう一方はどこですか？」

“Other?” repeated Mordred.

「もう半分。 それはどこにある？」

Mordred stared at her in disbelief for a moment before snarling. “Why the hell do you want to know that?” he demanded. “There’s nothing to consider about--” He grunted when he felt the shears pierce his projected skin.

Damn, these were not ordinary shears.

「私をテストしないでください、弱体化して」、growled the creature, her smile gone at this point.「あなたと他の人は私が欲しいものを持っています、そして私は今それが欲しいのです。」

“What...can we possibly give you?” demanded Mordred again.

The creature didn’t respond at first, but suddenly something different appeared in front of Mordred’s eyes, something that wasn’t his thoughts, but for now were. All he saw was a white and red fox with golden glasses, one that he felt so much _hatred _for, hatred that didn’t feel like his own but at the same time did.

Then, he was back to looking back at the creature, and he panted as he tried to recover from the sudden intake and outtake of those visions while the creature stepped away from him. Once he recovered, he looked back up at her again.

“I see…” he whispered. “So that’s what you want.”

The smile came back on her face.

“And what makes you think that I’ll help you?”

「ああ、心配する必要はありません。自分の意志でする必要はありません」、said the creature sinisterly.「それに加えて、あなたの残りの半分は、私がより速く欲しいものを私に与えることができます。それがそれです。」

Mordred growled at her. “Don’t you dare touch him.”

「ああ？」The creature raised an eyebrow.「なぜあなたはそんなに心配ですか？ 私が言うことをしても、私は彼やあなたを打ち負かしません。」

Mordred said nothing, instead gritting his teeth.

「私のことを、あなたが彼のことを気にかけているのでしょうか？」The creature leaned close to his face, so close that he could smell her perfume, something that mixed between nature and something out of this world, creating a repulsing scent to his supernatural senses.「感動的ですが、そうであれば、私のリクエストを処理するのに問題はありません。」

Mordred said nothing.

「私が欲しいものをください、そして私はあなたを平和に残します。 とても簡単です。」 She stepped away from him, smiling.「あなたが私から敵を作りたいと思わない限り、私たちはこの後再び会うことは決してないでしょう。」

Mordred once more grit his teeth as he glared at her. “You really think I will do that?” he asked. “Sorry, spirit, but I don’t trust you, and even if I decided to help you, what will I get in return?”

The creature smirked.「なぜ、あなたはここ何年もの間、必死になって欲しかった復讐です。」

Mordred froze, staring at her with a blank stare. What...what did she just say?

The creature grinned when she saw this.「あなたは復讐をしたいのではないですか？ あなたはこれをした人にあなたが彼らにしたことの代金を払わせたいのです、それゆえにあなたは渡さないのです。 彼らがまだ健在だと言ったらどうしますか？」

Mordred stared at her. “How do you know that?!” he demanded.

「気にする必要はありません」said the creature.「それで、それは何でしょうか？」

He didn’t answer, though he was sure his eyes were glowing eerily as the wounds on his chest and chin disappeared. “I have no reason to trust you,” he said. “I don’t know how you got that information, but you are a fool if you think that I will instantly take your offer. Now, begone with you.”

The creature continued to smile at him, then whispered something that only he could hear.

Mordred froze, eyes going wide in disbelief, and he could only stare at her as her smile widened.

「あなたが必要とするすべての証拠ですか？」she asked.「あなたが望むなら、私はあなたにもっと話すことができます。」

Mordred continued to stare. “How…?” He hated how weak his voice sounded, but he could not control it.

The creature shrugged. 「私のやり方があります。 その上、私にあなたに何かしてもらいたいだけで、代わりにこの人の居場所を紹介します。 実際、あなたが思っているよりもはるかに近いと言えるでしょう。」

Mordred didn’t answer.

「それで、私たちには契約がありますか？」

Mordred continued to say nothing for several moments, and he could only clench his teeth as the creature’s words pounded against his skull, refusing to leave and leaving him unable to ignore it.

_How the fuck did she know about this?! It just wasn’t possible!_

She couldn’t have known their name, what happened to him, how he came to be like this! It just...wasn’t possible!

Even still, the words continued to rage inside his head, demanding to be heard.

She knew their name, where they were, and he could…

He could finally have his revenge.

All this time...after hundreds of years had passed, after he had been trapped in that damned cave for so long, they were…

They still **lived?!**

Mordred could feel the hatred inside him burning with the intensity of a thousand suns, and hot misty steam began to surround his body, causing the dry grass under him to catch on fire. Somehow, it didn’t spread, but Mordred couldn’t think about it.

They lived. They lived. They _lived_.

Mordred’s grin widened until it overtook the entire lower half of his face, showing off his now sharp teeth and blackened void of a mouth. The irises in his eyes also got smaller and smaller until they were just dots in his blackened sockets, and laughter began to erupt from him.

He couldn’t help it. It was just so damn _hilarious._

Did this spirit really think she could fool him?! She may be far more powerful than him, but experience also meant an increase in exceptional lying. It shouldn’t matter what she knew about him, it was impossible for that pest to still be alive after all this time!

Unless…

Still cackling, surrounded by mist, and grinning, Mordred looked at the creature, who was staring back at him, unfazed by what was happening to him.

**“S h o w m e ,”** he demanded. **“S h o w m e w h a t y o u k n o w . ”**

The creature grinned. 「あなたは私の申し出を受け入れますか？」 she asked.

**“S h o w m e , ” **Mordred demanded again.

The creature was silent for a moment, but her grin did not disappear. 「もちろん、もちろん。 その後、契約が成立しました。」

~~~

Arthur lay down on the bed as the other male painting ghosts made themselves comfortable in his room while Elizabeth remained standing. She looked at Arthur briefly before speaking.

“What would you like me to sing, Master Arthur?” she asked.

Arthur didn’t respond at first as he took in the other painting ghosts, all of whom stole brief glances back at him before looking away. He couldn’t bring himself to look at them either, but he did his best to respond.

“Whatever you want, Elizabeth,” he answered. “I don’t really care at the moment.”

Elizabeth stared at him a moment before she nodded. “As you wish, Master Arthur. I think this one will best suit what you could be feeling right now.”

What he was feeling right now? Arthur didn’t ask Elizabeth what she meant about that, especially as the female ghost closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and proceeded to sing. Arthur’s eyes widened as he recognized the lyrics.

_♪ I keep reaching, but you’re not reaching back ♪_

_♪ You’re not reaching back. ♪_

_♪ Trying to get in, fight you through the cracks, ♪_

_♪ Fought you through the cracks. ♪_

_♪ I guess I’m trying to say, ♪_

_♪ It hurts to feel this far, ♪_

_♪ Million miles away. ♪_

_♪ Next to me, next to me you are. ♪_

Arthur’s eyes widened even more as he recognized the song.

This song...why was Elizabeth…

♪ _Well, if you’re sitting right here, then why are we worlds apart? ♪_

_♪ Why are we worlds apart? ♪_

_♪ If you’re so near, then why do you feel this far? ♪_

_♪ Why are we worlds apart? ♪_

Elizabeth proceeded to hum for a few minutes, not seeming to notice that her master and fellow ghosts were staring at her with surprise, the former more so. Well, it was either that, or she was ignoring it for the time being, especially as she continued to sing.

♪ _We’re not that different, you know. ♪_

_♪ I play among the stars and fall so low. ♪_

_♪ I try to make sense as I go, ♪_

_♪ ‘Cause nothing, ‘cause nothing, ‘cause nothing is in your soul. ♪_

The electrobeats were out at this point, and Arthur mutely watched as they flew about the room, humming along with Elizabeth as she continued to sing for a brief moment.

♪ _Why are we worlds apart? ♪_

_♪ And why are we worlds apart? ♪_

_♪ Why are we worlds apart? ♪_

Elizabeth stopped singing briefly before opening her eyes, giving her fellow ghosts and master a look that they understood very well. Without another word, all five men stood up, briefly watching as Elizabeth started to dance a little, and the electrobeats proceeded to fly around every single one of them before the men decided to join them.

Arthur could feel his tears falling again as the electrobeats made the music, which sounded electronic in nature, and so, so bittersweet. Eventually, the beat came to a point, and as soon as the drop occurred, he fell to the ground and proceeded to dance furiously once he was back on his feet, the male painting ghosts following his lead, but not touching him.

Elizabeth went back to singing at this point.

♪ _Why are we? ♪_

_♪ Why are we worlds apart? ♪_

_♪ Why are we worlds apart ♪_

Her own tears streaming down her cheeks, Elizabeth continued to sing.

♪ _Guess I’m trying to say, ♪_

_♪ It hurts to feel this far, ♪_

_♪ Million miles away. ♪_

_♪ Next to me, next to me you are. ♪_

Arthur’s dance became sorrowful and longing the more Elizabeth sung, and tears were now streaming down everyone’s faces at this point because Arthur’s aura had appeared and expanded to fill the entire room again.

Regardless, Elizabeth continued to sing, the electrobeats continued to provide the music, and the male painting ghosts continued to dance to themselves.

♪ _And if you’re sitting right here, ♪_

_♪ Why are we worlds apart? ♪_

_♪ Why are we worlds apart? ♪_

_♪ If you’re so near, why do you feel this far?_ ♪

♪ _Why are we worlds apart? ♪_

As Elizabeth once again stopped for the time being and allowed the electrobeats to play temporarily, she would occasionally sing again while her master and fellow ghosts danced around her. Meanwhile, Arthur danced furiously when the beat dropped again, ignoring his tears as he couldn’t stop, would not stop. He simply had no other choice, not even as Elizabeth continued to sing the last of the vocals, and therefore allowing the electrobeats to play out the rest of the bittersweet song.

Once the song became somber, Arthur’s dance became slower, sorrowful, until it looked like he was barely moving, yet flowed beautifully like water. He kept his eyes closed as the song came to a close, slowly moving to the ground until he was in a position of prayer, his head ducked, before the song ended with him holding his hands above his head and tilting his head back, as if offering himself to the heavens.

He stayed in that position for several moments even after the song ended, until he opened his eyes and relaxed his stance.

Regardless, he kept on silently crying, but the aura disappeared at this point, once again bringing back the original color of the room.

The first thing Arthur saw was Elizabeth, who was also silently crying a few more tears, and she was smiling sadly at him. It was silent in the room for several moments before Joseph spoke.

“Woman,” he began, “why did you sing that song in particular? You understand what its significance is to our master, yes?”

Elizabeth nodded, but Martin answered for her.

“It should be quite obvious to you, Judge,” he began, “when you understand its significance, you will understand why she sang it.”

Joseph didn’t respond to that, instead ducking his head.

“I hope that was alright, Master Arthur,” Elizabeth chimed in, looking at Arthur with a small look of guilt. “I couldn’t help myself. That song just wouldn’t leave me be until I sang it.”

Arthur shook his head, allowing the electrobeats to wipe his tears as he shakily smiled. “It’s alright, Elizabeth. It’s been quite a long time since you sang that song for me.”

Elizabeth didn’t reply to that.

Arthur then took that time to look out the window and into the night. “Isn’t it strange?” he asked. When the painting ghosts didn’t reply, he went on. “Even though we’re still on the same planet, in the same country even, it really does feel like we are worlds apart; so close, yet so far.”

More tears sailed down his cheeks, and Arthur once more allowed them.

“Perhaps you should go see them, Master Arthur,” chimed in Martin from behind him. “This is not good for you.”

Arthur didn’t respond.

“I understand that you’re scared of what you will see, but I do remember you said that you wanted to see how they were doing. Your uncle could surely use it, and so would your friends.”

Arthur looked at Martin. “They should be happy that I’m gone,” he said. “I was nothing but a weight on them, Uncle Lance included. They shouldn’t miss me.”

Martin frowned at Arthur. “You don’t know that, Master,” he said.

“Yes I do!” argued Arthur. “They would never accept my feelings for them anyway, and they proved to me that I was just a third wheel! Uncle Lance would say so too--”

“ARTHUR KINGSMEN!” The use of his name in that way immediately shut Arthur up, and he stared at Martin in a stunned stupor as the latter stared at him with a disapproving glare. “You listen to me and you listen good; If you think that your friends or your only family wouldn’t miss you, you should take a good look at your relationships with them. I may not know your uncle, but I know that he was, and perhaps still is, devastated about what happened. Not only that, but your friends had to watch you die, and you’re saying that they would not be devastated themselves?”

Arthur didn’t answer.

“You are trying to protect yourself from the prospect of being rejected again, but you have told us repeatedly that you wanted to check on them, that you wanted to be with them again, even if it was only from afar. You said you wanted to keep working with your uncle, keep eating at the restaurant of one of your friends’ families, and keep going on adventures with your friends, again even if it was from afar.”

“Priest,” Elizabeth began, only for Joseph to hold up a hand, silencing her.

“I understand that you’re scared, Master Arthur, especially with how Master Mordred may react, but you must stand up for yourself, and not be afraid to voice your feelings. It is, after all, what got you here in the first place. You must speak up; do not keep your feelings bottled in, otherwise they will destroy you. I don’t want to see that happen to you, Master; no one here does.”

Arthur looked at each of the other ghosts, all of whom were looking at him grimly. His anchor cracked a little more, and he winced.

“Everyone, I--”

Hold on, why was his chest hurting so much?

Elizabeth stepped forward. “Master?” she questioned. “What’s wrong?”

Arthur did his best to smile. “I-I’m fine,” he said, hoping that the pain wasn’t noticeable. What...what was happening to Mordred?

What did he do?!

“Master, what’s wrong?! Are you alri--”

Arthur could only slump against his bed, unable to register the pain as many minutes passed and eventually the wound disappeared. However, as soon as it disappeared, something else began to fill Arthur.

_So much fear._

_So much terror._

_Couldn’t run fast enough._

_Must run._

_Must run._

_Must _ ** _run!_ **

_I don’t want to die!_

_I don’t want to die!_

_Someone, please,_

** _HELP ME!_ **

Arthur gasped as he returned to the bedroom, the first thing he saw being the concerned faces of the painting ghosts around him. He then noticed that the electrobeats had become more electrical in nature while their faces turned sinister with anger. Arthur found himself matching them.

He slowly stood up, his human projection disappearing.

“Keep an eye out for Mordred,” he ordered. “I fear that something bad has happened to him. Not only that, but it seems we have a new guest coming our way. We must prepare.” He turned to Antonio. “Wrestler, you must be on the lookout for any potential dangers that could’ve harmed Mordred, and if you see anything amiss, deal with it.”

He turned to Joseph and Martin. “Judge, Priest, you are in charge of searching for Mordred and bringing him back, but in case there are any threats, I want you to take some of Antonio’s guards with you.”

Finally, he turned to Elizabeth, “Woman, make sure that you prepare a room for our new guest and help make Mordred comfortable once he’s returned.”

The painting ghosts looked at Arthur, stunned at the abrupt change, but they immediately composed themselves and bowed.

“As you wish, Master Arthur.” They then faded from the spot to carry out his orders, and Arthur used that time to look at the electrobeats.

“Come,” he ordered. “We don’t have any time to waste.”

The electrobeats didn’t make a sound as they simply retreated into his anchor, and once that happened, Arthur faded from the spot towards the place _they_ were.

He couldn’t waste another second.

Mordred was really rubbing off on him, but Arthur could not bring himself to care at this moment, though he did wonder what Mordred saw through his eyes at that moment.

~~~

_…_

_…_

_…_

_He could only stare._

_Just stare, frozen in horror, disbelief, and other emotions he couldn’t identify._

_All he could focus on was that orange and blonde figure many feet below him; stare at the green that protruded out of his chest; as red spread around it and onto the floor under him. He could register nothing else, not even as familiar shades of blue appeared in his vision and eventually disappeared, and his hearing seemed to have disappeared suddenly as well._

_Well, he could still hear, but he could hear nothing but his own barely beating heart and his slow, shallow breathing._

_This couldn’t...this couldn’t be happening._

_He had to be dreaming. He had to be! There was no way this could be real!_

_He wanted to wake up. He _needed_ to wake up. Why wasn’t he waking up?!_

“...Lewis…”

_A deep, unfamiliar voice spoke beside him, sounding sorrowful and gentle, but he could not pay any attention to it. He continued to stare down below, pleading to wake up._

“Oh great spirits…”

_Something soft touched his side, but he still didn’t react._

Wake up, wake up, wake up...**please**...

“Lewis...I’m so sorry…”

_He didn’t answer._

Please, wake up. I need to wake up.

_He then felt himself being lifted by the waist by something strong, soft, yet inhuman, and then they were falling, right towards the stalagmites._

_He didn’t scream. He _couldn’t _scream._

_Once more, he could only stare, his eyes still upon that figure that, moments ago, had been behind him, a fully functioning human being._

_This couldn’t be happening._

_He had to be playing tricks on him. He had to be!_

Wake up. Wake up. **WAKE UP!**

_Finally, they landed on the ground, somehow safely, but he couldn’t bring himself to think on that, or anything else except that figure before him. Whatever had been holding him loosened, and whoever spoke to and brought him down here took a step back._

_He could then hear mournful whining, whining that belonged to a dog, but he didn’t look to find the source._

_All he could focus on was that figure, covered in so much _red_, laying on the ground in a pool of all that matching color, and looking as if he were only sleeping._

_He began to step forward._

wake up...wake up..._please_.

_He couldn’t talk anymore, he thought, and, shakily, he reached a hand towards the figure, unable to tear his eyes away from that hole in his chest; something that should not be there._

_He had to be playing a joke on him. There was no way this could be happening!_

_Wake up! _ ** _WAKE UP DAMN IT!_ **

_Before he knew it, he was beside the figure, and fell to his knees, uncaring that his pants were getting soaked by all that red, that it was now clinging to his skin like some kind of rotten glue. He continued staring at the figure, looking for something, anything, that would tell him that his eyes were playing tricks on him, that the figure’s chest was not rising like it should, that his skin wasn’t so, so pale, and how he looked like he was only sleeping, an expression of unchanging peace on his face._

_He barely realized that he was shakily reaching his hands out for the figure, and it didn’t take long before he had them secured in his shaking arms._

_He was so _cold_, nothing like the warmth that he should’ve had, and he was so...limp. There was no stiffness in him, and his expression never changed, not even a bit. He heard another mournful whimper, but once again ignored it._

_He could only stare. That was all he could do. He could only stare until the facts hit him._

_Tears began to burn his eyes, and without any consideration towards the red, he brought the figure closer to him, pulling him as tightly as he could against his chest while burying his face in the other’s shoulder. Immediately, he realized how _cold_ the other was, how lifeless he felt against him. He could feel no trace of warmth, no heartbeat, no rising chest, nothing._

_All he could do was plead._

...Why?

Why did you do it?

Why did you do that to me…?

...

Don’t leave me.

Please, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.

I’m sorry I couldn’t save you! I’m sorry that I abandoned you!

Please! Please come back!

I love you! I love you so much! Please, don’t leave me, not like this! Never like this!

_He barely registered now that he was screaming, tears falling down his face like a never-ending river, and he could barely breathe or register a female scream from above him and a despairing howl from behind him. All he could register was the cold, broken, lifeless body in his arms, its owner looking as if he were only sleeping, his expression so peaceful, and he could only choke on the air._

_He continued to plead._

Please! Don’t go! Don’t leave me!

I love you, I love you, I love you! Don’t die! Please, **DON’T LEAVE ME!**

_Once more, nothing answered him, and all he could do was scream out._

** _“ARTHUR!!!!”_ **

Mordred gasped as he was brought back to reality, staying still so he wouldn’t collapse to the ground. What the...why did this vision appear to him now of all times? Usually when something happened to one of them, different things would appear to the other at the same time, but this...this appeared long after the fact, long after his wound had healed, long after he got away from that creature with the deal in mind, and long after he began thinking about what he had just agreed to.

Regardless, Mordred frowned as he thought over what he just saw, and he could only shake his head in disappointment as he looked up to the sky.

“That’s the thing about you humans,” he mused, disappointment in his voice. “You never realize what you have until it’s gone. Now, thanks to you, you are now worlds apart. Quite ironic, isn’t it, partner, that you believe they never wanted you, but only after you’re gone did they realize what they have lost.”

How pathetic, and yet Mordred felt nothing for the pair that claimed to love Arthur. After all, who would abandon the person they love without a second thought, without any thought to how their actions would affect that person, and who would take that person for granted until they were gone?

That Lewis Pepper and Vivi Yukino...they didn’t deserve Arthur in any way after what they did; how they abandoned him when he needed them most, took advantage of him for their own selfish amusement, put him in danger over and over again even while knowing how vulnerable he was, with it only being the grace of whatever god watched over them that they didn’t arrive too late. All while they claimed that they _loved _him.

Ha! What a joke!

That was unacceptable, and Mordred could only hope that Arthur would be able to get over them in the future, because they didn’t, and never have, deserved him.

But damn that boy for being so stubborn.

Looking into the forest, Mordred sighed. “I will have to think about that later. Now, I have another guest I have to prepare to entertain.”

~~~

Run. Run. Run. Run. Run. Run.

_I must run!_

That was the only thought that ran through his head as he ran as fast as his little legs would allow, tears streaming down his cheeks as the fear fueled his adrenaline. Behind him, he could hear _them_ screaming.

_“Come back here, you little brat!”_

_“We know you’re out here!”_

_“You’re gonna be in bigger trouble if you don’t come back here this instant!”_

He forced his legs to move faster, desperately hoping to lose them. He couldn’t go back, he knew he couldn’t, because if he did, then Mommy will cut him again and Daddy will burn him with the end of those stinky burning sticks!

He didn’t want to be hurt again!

He didn’t want to be screamed at again!

**“THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!”**

**“IF ONLY YOU DIDN’T EXIST, NONE OF THIS WOULD’VE HAPPENED!”**

**“I SHOULD’VE NEVER GIVEN BIRTH TO YOU!”**

**“I HATE YOU!”**

**“I SHOULD KILL YOU!”**

He didn’t doubt that Mommy and Daddy would do that, for they had tried to do that so many times, so many times that he lost count, and he didn’t want to go through that again!

He didn’t want to die!

He didn’t want to live in fear!

He only wanted to have a normal family like he saw so many other children having, and couldn’t understand why he couldn’t have that.

He tried to be the perfect child; perfect grades, perfect manners, everything, but nothing worked. He would never be enough for Mommy and Daddy, that much they made clear.

That didn’t mean he wanted to die or be hurt anymore though!

So he kept running, despite the ragged terrain of the forest he was running in, the enraged screams of Mommy and Daddy behind him, and not knowing where he was going or where he could hide, but he knew he had to escape. He needed to get away from them, from it all. He couldn’t take it anymore, and one more day at that place would be too much!

He just _couldn’t_.

He couldn’t anymore.

_“Bailey!”_

_“You get back here, you brat!”_

_“You’re really pissing me off now, boy!”_

Despite having no significant amount of saliva in his mouth, he gulped through his ragged breathing, praying that he would not slow down in any way, or that he would lose them. He needed to find somewhere--_anywhere_\--that he could hide!

Where could he hide?! He didn’t dare to stop to check for any potential hiding places, simply because that would mean that Mommy and Daddy will catch up to him, and he would be taken back to that horrible place, the place he didn’t want to return to.

He didn’t want to go there anymore!

He needed to hide! Hide anywhere! Anywhere where Mommy and Daddy wouldn’t find him and drag him back to that horrible place!

Anywhere would do, yet why couldn’t he stop running?!

He looked ahead, and the first thing he saw was a figure standing in the distance, their eyes glowing an ominous yellow color. He gasped, but found that he couldn’t stop running, for there was simply nowhere else to go.

The figure before him just watched him, not even moving from their spot, and for a moment he wondered if he was looking at a statue (though why would a statue be in the middle of a forest?), until he got closer.

Hold on…

Was that...a person?

No, no, that can’t be it.

As far as he knew, humans’ eyes did not glow, nor were there any eyes that were completely black with only the irises visible. Immediately he understood that what he was running towards was not human at all.

Suddenly, his foot caught on something, and, with a startled cry, he fell to the earth, landing face-first into the dirt. Coughing from the amount of oxygen he had lost and the sudden loss of adrenaline, he could only feel fear as he looked up at the figure.

The figure, who he realized was a man at this point ranging from his gravity-defying hair to his goatee, stared down at him, not moving from his previous position, and he could only stare back, mesmerized and...feeling safe? He felt like he should be scared of this man, who was clearly not human, and who was not blinking down at him as he stared down at him.

But he wasn’t. He didn’t know where the feeling came from, but he had the feeling that he could trust this man, that he was safety.

Safety…

_“BAILEY!!”_

Gasping in terror, he snapped his head over his shoulder, realizing that the enraged voice of Mommy was closer now, and even though he couldn’t see her or Daddy, he knew it would only be a matter of time before they would find him here.

He turned back to the man, tears in his eyes. The man was no longer looking at him at this point, staring straight ahead at where Mommy’s angry voice came from, but as if sensing his eyes on him, he looked back down at him, once again not moving from his position or blinking.

“P-Please,” he begged with a whimper. “Please, help me…! I--Mommy and Daddy hurt me, and t-they will hurt me again i-if they find me! P-Please, I don’t want to go back--”

He was interrupted by the man holding out his hand, the first movement he ever made. He could only stare at the extended hand for a moment, confused at first, but the message soon became clear.

He slowly extended his own hand, hesitant at first and wondering if he was making the wrong decision. This man...or whatever he was, was a stranger after all, and he wasn’t sure if he was trustworthy.

** _“BAILEY!!!”_ **

Giving a weak cry of fear, he immediately grabbed onto the man’s hand, and immediately his eyes were full of gold before both he and the man disappeared from view in a flash of sparkling golden light, just as Mommy and Daddy arrived.

Only to fall right into the trap the man set for them. Even where they were, the forest absorbed their deathly gurgles as they lay impaled on spikes made purely of lightning, frying them from the inside out.

No one would be able to hear them, their final sounds barely a sound to the world outside the forest, just as the Man wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> 幽霊にとって、あなたはかなり強力です, she said. それでも、あなたが私が期待したものではないことはかなりがっかりです。-- Quite powerful you are, for a ghost. Still, it’s quite a disappointment that you’re not what I expected.”
> 
> 自分の名前を劣等な超自然人に明かす必要はないようです。 さて、もう一方はどこですか？-- I see no need to reveal my name to an inferior supernatural. Now, where is the other?
> 
> もう半分。 それはどこにある？-- Your other half. Where is it?
> 
> 私をテストしないでください、弱体化して。あなたと他の人は私が欲しいものを持っています、そして私は今それが欲しいのです。-- Do not test me, weakling. You and the other have something I want, and I want it, now.
> 
> ああ、心配する必要はありません。自分の意志でする必要はありません。 その上、あなたの他の半分は私がずっと欲しいものを私に与えることができます、そしてそれはそれです。-- Oh don’t worry, you don’t have to, by your own volition. Besides, that other half of yours can give me what I want much faster, and that will be it.
> 
> ああ？ どうしてそんなに心配なの？ 私が言うことをしても、私は彼やあなたを打ち負かしません。-- Oh? Why are you so concerned? I will not vanquish him or you if you do what I say.
> 
> 私のことを、あなたが彼のことを気にかけているのでしょうか？ 感動的ですが、そうであれば、私のリクエストを処理するのに問題はありません。-- My my, could it be that you care about him? How touching, but if that’s the case, you won’t have any trouble going through with my request.
> 
> 私が欲しいものをください、そして私はあなたを平和に残します。 とても簡単です。 あなたが私から敵を作り出すことを望んでいない限り、私たちはこの後に再び会うことは決してないでしょう。-- Give me what I want, and I will leave you in peace. It’s that simple. We will never meet again after this, unless you wish to make an enemy out of me.
> 
> なぜ、あなたはここ何年もの間、必死になって欲しかった復讐です。-- Why, the revenge you so desperately wanted all these years.
> 
> あなたは復讐をしたいのではないですか？ あなたはこれをした人にあなたが彼らにしたことの代金を払わせたいのです、それゆえにあなたは渡さないのです。 彼らがまだ健在だと言ったらどうしますか？-- You want revenge, do you not? You want to make the one who did this to you pay for what they have done, hence why you refuse to pass on. What if I told you that they are still alive and well?
> 
> 気にする必要はありません。 それで、それは何でしょうか？ -- You don’t need to concern yourself with that. So, what will it be?
> 
> それがあなたが必要とするすべての証拠ですか？ よろしければ、もっと詳しくお伝えします。-- Is that all the proof you need? I can tell you more, if you want.
> 
> 私のやり方があります。 その上、私にあなたに何かしてもらいたいだけで、代わりにこの人の居場所を紹介します。 実際、あなたが思っているよりもはるかに近いと言えるでしょう。-- I have my ways. Besides, I simply want you to do something for me, and in return I will show you the whereabouts of this person. In fact, I can tell you they are much, much closer than you think.
> 
> それで、私たちには契約がありますか？-- So, do we have a deal?
> 
> あなたは私の申し出を受け入れますか？-- So you accept my offer?
> 
> もちろん、もちろん。 その後、契約が成立しました。-- Of course, of course. Then we have a deal.
> 
> Please keep in mind that I had to use Google Translate for this, so I apologize if any of this appears wrong. It’s always a pain not knowing if you’re correct about something and are forced to leave it up to chance. Ugh, someone please shoot me.
> 
> ~~~
> 
> Anyway, Mordred’s powers are far more powerful than Arthur’s, and the vision he has through the other is one example, as not only can he see through Arthur’s eyes, but he can also see through the eyes of the people who are close to Arthur. Arthur doesn’t have that power just yet, but it will not be appearing anytime soon.
> 
> Of course, I know what's going on between Arthur and Mordred after Mordred was hurt by Shiromori may be confusing , especially since the two of them are bound. I will only say that depending on the situation, any physical harm will appear at random times, especially when they are dealing with another (and far more powerful) supernatural. Strange, I know, but the supernatural itself is strange.
> 
> It’s also been theorized pretty heavily that Shiromori is far more powerful than ??? as a whole, though I will agree that this is debatable, as ??? is inside Arthur’s arm in canon and seemingly at his (or their in this case) weakest as a result. However, I thought it best that Shiromori be more powerful than Mordred in this fanfic, as it didn’t feel right to have him on equal ground or more powerful than Shiromori in this fanfic (otherwise we would be here for a long while, and the plot would have been much, much different).
> 
> However, when you are bound to another powerful ghost, and one with such a pure and powerful soul, the odds tend to be in your favor when you work with them.
> 
> Finally, I was testing out the writing of the music notes in this chapter, and I have to admit that they are also a lot of pain. The song that Elizabeth sang is “Worlds Apart”, which is a song made by Seven Lions and is sung by Estonian singer Kerli. I highly recommend the song, especially for those of you who are huge fans of melodic dubstep, and even after three years of first hearing it, I’m still binge-listening to it; it’s that good!


	15. Color Me Red

_Green._

_There was so much green._

_Green walls, green ceiling, green floors, green stalagmites, green stalactites, green mist._

There was so much green.

_He had grown to hate this color, so much so that he no longer wanted anything to do with it. He couldn’t even stand to look at the green leaves in a tree, and to think he had found them so relaxing in the past._

_Now, he was back here._

This god damn **cave!**

_He couldn’t remember what he had been doing before, except he did. He couldn’t put them to words, but he knew he could._

_But neither his mind or his mouth would work._

_They wouldn’t have been able to form those words anyway._

_He couldn’t remember what he had been doing before, only that he had been alone, and knew he shouldn’t have been there. He was supposed to be on the cliff above; it was where they had agreed to go, he and--_

_..._

_Oh god…_

_Oh _dios mio_\--!_

_He saw something jump from the cliff above, the figure of a person that silently soared through the air away from the cliff. He could only stare, unable to tear his eyes away, to move, or to make a sound, and he could only take note on how _silent_ the figure was. They did not scream, they did not laugh, they did not yell, they did not cry._

_There was only complete, dead _silence.

_Just then the sound of ripping flesh and bone was heard, a sound so horrible that it was probably the loudest sound he had ever heard. He barely registered the torch he hadn’t known he had been holding before falling from his hand, especially when a new color appeared. A color he had also grown to hate._

_It was everywhere, staining the green an even uglier color. It stained the floors, his hands, and...and…_

_the stalagmite._

_And on the stalagmite, slowly sliding down the side of it and towards him, covered in so much of the color, a gaping hole in his chest, and deathly pale skin, was…_

_...no…_

_...no no no no no_

_No No No No No_

No nO No no No nO

** _NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO_ ** **   
  
**

**NO NO NO NO**

**NONONONONONONONONONONO!**

_He barely registered the scream erupting from his lips, or another, female scream echoing somewhere else, a voice he recognized, but could not pay much attention to. He barely registered the fact that he was running, his arms held wide out, until the figure landed limply and lifelessly into them. He barely registered himself falling to the ground from the force of the landing, his knees hurting from hitting the unforgiving cavern floor._

_All he could register was the blood coating his hands and staining his clothes, and the lifeless form of the figure before him._

_Oh dios...no…!_

_Please, please no!_

_“A--” He choked, barely getting the word out. “Arthur!”_

_As if in response, the figure--no, _Arthur_\--choked, red flying from his lips and onto his face. He couldn’t even cry out at the sight, his voice having suddenly failed him. He felt his eyes burn with tears, which sailed down his cheeks rapidly, especially when Arthur’s eyes--his beautiful, shining, golden-amber eyes--looked at him._

_The pain in his chest increased when he saw how utterly_ lifeless _those beautiful eyes had become. And there was so much red pooling under them, leaving that frail and broken body._

_He had long since begun embracing Arthur, desperately pressing him against his chest in an effort to stop the bleeding, anything to heal him. He felt the blood, suddenly so hot, stain his clothes and press against his skin, but he couldn’t stop._

_He had to save Arthur._

_Anything to save Arthur._

_“Please…” he was pleading, words that did not feel like his own but at the same time were, “d-don’t--please, not like this! I--oh dios, why? Why did you do it?! No, p-please Arthur, d-d-don’t you dare leave me…!”_

_Arthur continued to bleed, despite how hard he was pressing against the wounds. Why? Why won’t he stop bleeding?!_

_He pressed even harder against the wounds, trying to ignore the blood, so hot against his skin._

_He wanted to throw up, but his body would not reply. Whether it was because of the terror, the disbelief, the lump in his throat, or because he had nothing to throw up, it didn’t matter._

_And he did this._

_This was..._This was all his fault.

_“What…” he whispered weakly. “What have I...oh dios mio...what have I done to you?!”_

_How could he allow this to happen?!_

_Why did he not notice sooner?!_

** _When had he become so fucking blind?!_ **

_The man in his arms shifted ever so slightly, but he felt it. Automatically, he froze, his eyes wide and full of tears as he looked right into Arthur’s own. Those amber orbs, once so full of life until recently, had now dulled significantly, so significantly that all life seemed to have been drained. Yet, he was still alive._

_He knew that wouldn’t last long._

And it’s all your fault, _a voice, dark and malicious and spiteful, spat, almost like it was singing a song. _It’s all your fault he’s dying. It’s all your fault, human!

_He sobbed again, his shoulders quivering as his voice proceeded to fail him._

_“A-Arthur…” he pleaded, sobbing uncontrollably. “P-Please, I’m...I’m so sorry! I-I didn’t want this t-to happen! Please…! Please don’t die! D-Don’t leave me! N-Not like this!”_

_Arthur stared at him, his punctured chest rising so shallowly, and he didn’t know if he was in pain or not, but the knowledge did nothing to comfort him._

_This was all his fault._

_They allowed this to happen._

He_ allowed this to happen._

_He allowed Arthur to suffer in silence, had hurt him so much, and he didn’t do a damn thing about it! He had noticed the signs, and yet had chosen to ignore them!_

_And now, the result of those actions was right in front of him, and in the form of the man bleeding out in his arms._

_Arthur twitched again, and his mouth began to move, garbled sounds coming forth that were spelling out words, words he could not understand. Eventually, even those sounds faded, until all Arthur was able to do was mouth the words._

_“Artie…?” he called out brokenly. “W-What are you saying? I...I can’t...understand you.”_

_Arthur’s mouth didn’t move again, and it took him a heart-stopping moment to realize that the other man was no longer moving, no longer breathing, no longer _here.

_He gasped brokenly. “A-Artie…?” He stared at the other man closely, desperately searching for any signs of life. “Artie?! Arthur?!”_

_The other man did not move on his own accord, not even when he began to desperately shake his body._

_“Arthur! Come on, don’t do this to me! Please! Don’t leave me, not like this!”_

_But then he was gone. Just as suddenly as he went limp, he was no longer in his arms, only leaving behind only a large pool of blood, so vile, revolting, hot, and yet _ **so cold** _._

_All he could do then was scream._

**“ARTHUR!!!”**

~~~

Lewis shot up from bed, his voice sore from screaming and his body slick with sweat. He panted hard, the fear and despair lingering with him even as he realized where he was.

He was home.

He wasn’t in the cave anymore.

It had been a nightmare.

…

…

…

…

No...not a nightmare.

_A memory._

** _A punishment._ **

Lewis buried his face into his hands, sobs racking his form as the facts hit him once more.

“I’m sorry, Artie…” he sobbed brokenly, his body shaking. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry…”

Somehow, this nightma--memory felt worse than the others. In every other one, the scenario would always be different, but at the same time the same; Arthur would jump from that cliff, brushing past him and him being too late to catch him, but some things would be different.

Sometimes Lewis would immediately see Arthur running to the cliff, but as soon as he went to stop him, his hand would either faze through him or he would be going in slow motion. Other times he would be where Vivi would’ve been when Arthur jumped, and he would either be unable to move, unable to get Arthur off the stalagmite, unable to voice his screams, unable to do _anything_.

And then there was Arthur himself.

Somehow, there were times when he would still be alive, and he would glare at Lewis with seething hatred and, other times, _betrayal_. Then the accusations would come.

_“Why Lewis?!”_

_“Why did you abandon me?!”_

_“Was I anything to you?!”_

_“Was I just a toy for you and Vivi?!”_

_“You said you wouldn’t abandon me!”_

_“You said we would always be there for each other!”_

_“WHY?!”_

_“WHY DID YOU ABANDON ME, LEWIS!”_

_“I hate you, Lewis!”_

_“I hate you!”_

_“I hate you!”_

_“I FUCKING HATE YOU!”_

** _“FUCK, IT’S YOU I HATE THE MOST!”_ **

During those times, all Lewis could do was whimper out apologies, cry out pleas for forgiveness, say that he didn’t mean to abandon Arthur, that he didn’t mean to break his promise to him, that he didn’t mean to make him feel like a third wheel; but every time, Lewis knew those words wouldn’t mean anything, it wouldn’t change what happened, it wouldn’t alter what he had done. Arthur’s phantom made that clear.

He wouldn’t let him forget; how stupid he had been, how selfish he had been, how much he hurt Arthur, and how he didn’t realize it until it was far too late.

He couldn’t call himself a friend. What kind of friend would abandon their loved one like that, would break the promise they made to that friend like it meant nothing to them?

How Lewis wished he could turn back time, that he would’ve done something different, but all he could ask was why. Why did this happen? Why didn’t they say something? How could they have been so selfish? But, most of all, when did _he_ become so blind? So uncaring? The signs were there, and he ignored them, brushing them off like they were of no concern to him, like his own _best friend_ was of no concern to him.

It truly was no wonder why Arthur took that moment to kill himself in that cave. It gave him the perfect opportunity to escape from them, the people he thought were his friends, only for them to stab him in the back in more ways than one.

Now, Lewis wasn’t sure he could forget it, nor if he wanted to. He could never forget the numbing horror at the sight before him, or the feeling of his best friend’s cold and limp body when he held him close, the soreness of his throat as he screamed, the burning in his eyes as the tears fell, the mournful howls that Mystery made, or the feeling of Vivi’s hands on his shoulders as he felt her own sobbing body against him.

He could still vaguely remember when they finally left that damned place, Arthur’s body lying limp in his arms, Vivi’s hand clinging onto the fabric of his shirt, Mystery silently walking close to their feet, and when they finally got into the van, _Arthur’s van_. He also remembered the drive back to Tempo, where he was the one driving. Vivi sat next to him, staring into an uncertain distance with a blank face while Mystery was curled up between them, refusing to move and not making a sound, and Arthur’s body was on Lewis’ lap, his head leaning against the larger man’s shoulder, still looking as if he was only sleeping.

Lewis kept his eyes on the road, feeling the blood on him drying more and more until it felt unbearable, but he didn’t move to voice his discomfort. He had no right. He only felt numb as he kept driving, held the body of his once living friend close to him, and silently shed more tears along the way. Next to him, Vivi clung to Arthur’s hand, refusing to let go for anything, her eyes bloodshot and also void of emotion, her pale skin somehow looking paler than before.

Lewis could still remember the thoughts running through his mind at that time.

_Why did this happen?_

_How could this have happened?_

_What am I going to tell Lance?_

_What am I going to tell everyone?_

_What are we going to do now?_

_Why?_

_Why did you do it?_

_Why was I too slow?_

_I’m sorry._

_I’m sorry._

_I’m so sorry._

Faintly, Lewis heard his bedroom door opening, and the light from outside shone on him. Glancing through his hands, he could make out the familiar silhouette of his dear mama, watching as she walked further into the room, closed the door behind her, and approached his side.

Lewis had looked away at that point, unable to look his mother in the eye.

“Mi hijo,” called Mama, her normally stern voice soft. “Was it another nightmare?”

Lewis only let out another sob.

Mama wrapped her arms around him, gently bringing him closer to her and resting her face against his head. The action only made Lewis cry harder, and he found himself clinging to her, sobbing hard against her shirt as she whispered soothing words of Spanish into his ears, her fingers caressing his hair.

She shouldn’t be comforting him like this. It was his fault that all this was happening, that Vivi was suffering from selective amnesia, that Lance was struggling with self-blame, that Arthur was _gone_.

He didn’t deserve this comfort. Surely Mama knew that.

“Stop it, mi hijo,” Mama sternly scolded, bringing him from his thoughts. “None of this was your fault. None of us could have predicted this.”

“Yes it is, Mama!” Lewis protested, pulling away from her. “I promised him that I would protect him, that I wouldn’t abandon him! I broke that promise, and it’s because of me that Arthur’s dead, that he threw himself from that cliff, that Vivi was forced to watch him die and erase her own memory of his death to cope, that Uncle Lance is struggling with guilt, that--”

A small smack against his cheek interrupted him, and it took Lewis a moment to realize that Mama had just lightly slapped him. Stunned, he stared at her, watching as her brown eyes filled with tears while they stared at him with stern sadness.

“Lewis Habanero Pepper,” she began slowly, “you listen to me, and you listen good; as much as it pains me to say this, Arthur is gone, and nothing we say or do will bring him back. Yes, it hurts me that he did this, without considering how much hurt he would leave behind, but sadly, we did not see this coming. None of us did, not even Lance. If we did, we would’ve done everything in our power to help him. But it’s done, and we’re left to pick up the pieces.

“Yes, I wish things could have ended differently, but do you know what is hurting me the most right now? It’s watching you blame yourself and beat yourself up for this. It kills me to see my own hijo precioso do this to himself, and that I am not able to stop it. Seeing you hurt yourself like this is killing your papa and I, as well as your sisters.”

Lewis flinched at the last part. His sweet little sisters, the tomboy Belle, the prankster Cayenne, and the sweetheart Paprika. Those three little girls were Lewis’ entire world, besides Vivi, Arthur, and Mystery, and even now, he couldn’t understand how those three were still able to love him after what he had done.

Of course, the girls had given him a wide berth after Arthur’s funeral, and Lewis will never forget their reactions upon learning of Arthur’s death.

The blank face Belle gave them when she first learned from her parents that “Arthur was not going to be visiting anymore”, then the realization hitting her before she broke down into tears, something she wasn’t known to do even when she got hurt; when Cayenne immediately ran off to her bedroom, slammed the door behind her, and sobbed her little heart out after the funeral; or the heartbreaking confusion on Paprika’s face when she saw Arthur lying in that coffin, looking so peaceful he almost looked like he was sleeping.

Lewis hated that his sweet hermanas had to witness death at such a young age, and that only made him hate himself even more. He could’ve stopped this, could’ve prevented this from happening, but he didn’t, because he was selfish and too wrapped up in himself to notice the pain Arthur was going through.

But then came the point when the coffin was closed and was preparing to be buried. Paprika kept trying to stop the diggers from burying Arthur’s coffin, screaming all the while.

_“Stop it, he won’t be able to get out if you do that!” cried Paprika, struggling against her sobbing father’s hold as she tried to rush towards the open grave. “He won’t be able to breathe, he’ll be alone in there! T_ _í_ _o Artie, wake up! Wake up!!”_

Lewis had silently started crying when he heard Paprika, his sweet little hermana, cry out like that, and not even Vivi, who had been staring at the coffin with a blank stare, could stop the many tears that sailed down her cheeks. Lance had not been any better either, and watching Lance--strong, unshakable Lance Kingsmen, who Lewis never once saw shed a tear in all the time he knew him--break down over his nephew’s grave...it hurt so much.

And it hurt more knowing that he allowed this to happen.

A hand caressed his cheek, and Lewis looked up to see Mama looking at him again.

“Let us in, mi hijo, we want to help you,” she urged gently. “You should not have to go through this alone. None of this was your fault, and I don’t care how many times I have to say it until you believe it, you hear me?”

“But I could’ve stopped him, Mama!” Lewis protested again, breaking down once more. “If I had been a second faster, I could’ve saved him! But _no_, I was too busy trying to find words to my stupid feelings, trying to tell him how much--” He inhaled sharply, unable to continue as he continued to cry.

Mama was silent for a moment. “How much you love him?” she finished

Lewis looked up at her, saying nothing for many moments. Then, he nodded. He still thought it was a miracle that his family still accepted him when they learned that he was also in love with Arthur, just as Vivi was. In fact, Vivi’s family and Lance knew all along too, and that hurt even more.

He still remembered the first time he told Mama:

_“Vivi and I…We love each other, we truly do Mama, but...we love Arthur too. We wanted to talk to him about...joining our...our relationship. I-I couldn’t say anything because...because I thought he wasn’t...interested. Vivi didn’t think he was interested either, so...we didn’t say anything.”_

Lewis sobbed at the memory. “I should’ve said something sooner, should’ve been paying attention to him, then he would still be here; working alongside his uncle, building things that I wouldn’t even begin to understand, eating Surf’s Up Pizza, everything!”

Mama still said nothing.

“And Vivi...she won’t even believe that Arthur’s dead. She keeps saying that he’s only missing and we’ll find him! I tried telling her so many times, but she won’t believe me! She’s determined to believe that he’s only missing, even when she saw me carry his body out of that cave, when he was being buried in the cemetery!”

“Lewis,” Mama interrupted gently, “please, calm down, you’re starting to scare me.”

Lewis immediately went silent, and he buried his face into his hands once again, soul-retching sobs spilling from him.

The door opened again, and Lewis didn’t bother looking up this time as he continued to cry, even when he heard his father’s voice.

“Love…?” called Papa. “Lewis? What’s wrong?”

Mama didn’t answer at first. She then shook her head and gestured it to their still-sobbing son.

Papa understood immediately. “Lewis,” he began, voice soft. “Did you...have another nightmare?”

Lewis didn’t answer.

Papa mutely sighed. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Lewis didn’t reply.

“Okay.” Papa sounded disheartened, and suddenly Lewis felt guilty all over again. Now he made his father sad. Was that all he was good for now? “Well...breakfast is ready, so...feel free to join us, Lewis. Your sisters would really love to see you.”

Lewis once more said nothing.

“You have been in here for days, Lewis,” continued Papa. “You’re losing weight, you’re not eating, you’re beating yourself up, and we’re scared that you’ll...you’ll…” The older man couldn’t finish, and when Lewis looked at him, he saw tears forming in his eyes.

Lewis finally sobbed again. “I’m sorry…” he whispered, unable to speak any higher. “I’m so sorry…”

There was a brief silence in the room, and Mama hugged him again, this time with Papa joining her.

Lewis said nothing, and he only continued to sob into his hands, unable to look either of his parents in the face. For several more moments, no one spoke, and Lewis continued to sob quietly, unable to look either of his parents in the eye. How could he, when he was responsible for their sadness?

Then a voice came through.

“Mama, Papa, Lew-Lew?”

Lewis flinched when he heard that weak little voice, and he looked up to see all three of his sisters looking through the doorway of his room, their heads barely peeking through as if they were afraid of what they would see from within.

The guilt struck Lewis even harder.

Mama and Papa looked at the girls, smiling slightly. They then held their arms out, an offering for them to join the hug. Belle, Cayenne, and Paprika hesitated before slowly walking into their big brother’s room, approaching the bed, climbing up onto it, and joining the embrace.

For the first time since he woke up, Lewis couldn’t keep himself from wailing, and he drew his family into a tight embrace, causing his sisters to squeak in surprise, but they didn’t fight back when they saw their brother’s tears and heard his cries. Instead, their small arms tried to wrap around him, just as Mama began to hum in Spanish again to comfort him.

In his tears, Lewis couldn’t see that his entire family had joined him in it, albeit more quietly than him. He didn’t know how long they sat there crying until he couldn’t cry anymore, had no more tears left to cry, and felt numb. It was only after his cries began to lessen that Mama stopped humming and the entirety of his family pulled away from him slightly, tears still in their eyes.

Mama then placed a hand on her son’s cheek. “Are you okay now, mi hijo?” she asked gently.

Lewis didn’t respond at first, then he let out a weak, “I don’t know…”

Mama nodded. “I know this may not mean much to you, mi hijo, but I know Arthur wouldn’t have wanted you to blame yourself for this. He was always a good young man; kind, gentle, gave people second chances for everything, and accepted others easily. Do you remember when you were very young and you were having a hard time making friends? Arthur immediately accepted you, even protected you from the kids who were bullying you.”

Lewis remembered; Back when he was a kid and had recently been adopted by his family, he indeed had a hard time making friends because of his tastes. He always wore pink or purple colors, would play with dolls, and even had a Sailor Moon backpack. For some reason, the other kids found a problem with that, and being that he barely knew English at the time, Lewis had a hard time standing up for himself.

Then he met Arthur Kingsmen, the tallest kid in the class and someone who put up with no one’s crap. Without even thinking, he protected Lewis from the bullies, even beating several of them up without breaking a sweat, though he did get in trouble for it, but Arthur had no regrets.

It was through Arthur that Lewis obtained the most wonderful friend he could ever have. Arthur didn’t care that he preferred “girly” things, saying that it was no excuse for someone to bully him, and he shouldn’t be afraid to be who he wants to be just because others didn’t like it.

_“It’s none of their business!” _Arthur said. _“If you ask me, they’re just jealous that they can’t be themselves!”_

Lewis always looked up to Arthur, and found that he wanted to be the kind of person who protected others. As they grew up and Lewis got taller than even Arthur, he really thought he was returning the favor by protecting Arthur from ghosts, cults, and the other malicious entities they came across while on their adventures with Vivi, a girl they met in fifth grade and also became friends with, but…

It wasn’t the same. Lewis knew that now, and he could only hate himself even more.

He wasn’t protecting Arthur. Both he and Vivi forced him into situations he didn’t want to be in, and more than once he was on the receiving end of nearly being sacrificed, of being sexually assaulted by all genders, of being dismembered, and so many others that would’ve happened had they arrived there a second too late.

In the end, he repaid Arthur for his kindness by slowly killing him.

He may as well as have been the one who pushed Arthur, the one who killed him, in that cave.

Why couldn’t he have been the one to die? Why couldn’t he save Arthur? Why couldn’t he have just died with him?

Why did Arthur have to die? Why didn’t he?

When Lewis looked down at his hands, he saw how _red_ they were, a red that he thought he washed off so long ago, but there it was, still on his hands, forever reminding him of the sin he committed, of what he allowed to slip from his grasp so, so easily. They will forever remember the limp coldness of that once living body they held, feeling no warmth, no heartbeat, no breathing, no _life_.

Even now, after nearly a year, even these hands would not let him forget.

“Lewis?” Papa’s voice brought him from his thoughts. “Are you alright?”

Lewis’ traitorous mouth moved. “Red…” he whispered. “There’s so much red…”

Both of his parents flinched at this, and he didn’t see them looking at each other, a silent conversation passing between them before they turned to the girls.

“Head downstairs, chicas, we’ll be right behind you,” said Mama, voice gentle yet firm.

“Mama?” questioned Paprika, her little voice full of worry.

“But what about--”

“Head down there, girls,” Papa interrupted Cayenne. “We’ll be right there. Don’t worry.”

The girls hesitated again, but they slowly nodded, got off of Lewis’ bed, and left the room to head downstairs. Lewis suddenly felt smaller without them there, and that was saying something considering how big he was.

Once they were gone, both Mama and Papa turned back to him.

“Lewis…” Mama began, slowly, “what are you seeing right now?”

Lewis didn’t respond. Or, rather, he couldn’t respond. How could he when he could no longer see the red at this point, but somehow still feel the wrongness of it?

Then, both Mama and Papa stood up, bringing Lewis with them. Stunned, Lewis watched them as they proceeded to walk him towards the door, getting him out of his room for the first time in a long while.

“Mama? Papa?” he questioned, confused. “What are you…”

Neither one of his parents said a word, but once they were at the entrance to the stairs that led to the kitchen, they let him go.

“Go down to your sisters, Lewis,” ordered Mama, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Your papa and I need to talk. Don’t worry, we’ll be right behind you, and you better eat, or else I will force feed you. Do you understand, mi amour?”

Lewis shivered, despite himself. His mother was always a woman of her word, so if she said she was going to do something, such as force feeding someone, she was going to do it, no matter what the opposing party thought.

After all, he got that from her, especially when it came to…

Lewis could only nod. “Okay, Mama,” he said. “I’ll try.”

“Good.”

With one last look at his parents, Lewis proceeded to walk down the stairs, their following conversation growing quieter the further away he got.

_“He’s getting worse,” _said his father, voice full of worry. _“We were lucky that we managed to catch him before he could proceed with the act last time, but if this continues, he’ll--”_

_“I know,” _said Mama. _“We’ll think of something, I promise. We will not let that happen again. We will not lose another child to suicide.”_

_“Then what should we do? He needs help, and it’s clear we’re not helping him enough! Do you remember what he said just a moment ago? He’s _hallucinating _now, Carolina, and the constant nightmares he’s having are making it worse. He needs professional help, and he needs it sooner rather than later. If we let this continue, Lewis will destroy himself just as Arthur had! We can’t let that happen again, you said it yourself!”_

_“I know...I know…”_

Destroy himself like Arthur had? Lewis had to keep a bitter smile from appearing on his face.

After everything he’s done (and didn’t do), it would be a fitting end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You never realize what you have until it’s gone. It’s sad but true.
> 
> Vivi’s point of view will be coming soon, but I can’t say when that will be. I also really have no idea how many times I edited this chapter until I was finally as satisfied as I could be with it. I really want the earth to crack open and swallow me whole right now. Granted, this had been sitting in my files for awhile, since I got bored one day and decided to write this just so I’ll have something to follow.
> 
> Finally, yes, I also headcanon that Arthur was taller than Lewis, was protective of Lewis, and was quite the little spitfire when they were younger. Like, come on, who doesn’t love that headcanon? Don’t remember who first proposed it though, since it’s been awhile since I first saw it.


	16. Fall in Love with Our Scars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry that I took so long updating this. I was busy moving my fanfiction, notes, and the fanart made for said fanfiction to a different blog on Tumblr, which wasn’t really fun considering how much I write (and I swear I am not a fan of how Tumblr seems to make it a habit to not add all of my tags, especially the ones that have trigger warnings attached to them. Though that could be just me, but I don’t know how to fix it at this time). So, it left me exhausted and unable to focus on writing, which I’m really not happy about.
> 
> Now, I’m not done yet, but I’ve managed to get most of my fanfics and notes moved, and I wanted to use that time to focus on publishing a new chapter of Iactura for all of you. Though, I should at least be happy that I will have a separate account where I can actually place my works and those dedicated to them and not mix them up with reblogs on my primary Tumblr blog.
> 
> For those of you who are curious as to what that blog is, it is 37054ljhwriting.tumblr.com. Though, keep in mind it’s still in progress and as a result is a little disorganized at this time, but I’m getting there. I just don’t want to rush it, otherwise I’m going to burn myself out, and I really don’t need that.
> 
> Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this chapter! I’ll try to update a little sooner next time, but no promises.

They were back at the mansion now. The child grasped Arthur’s hand tightly, eyes swirly with dizziness and the sudden change of setting, but he managed to recover quickly, still grasping onto his hand for support.

“Please, don’t hurt me. Mommy, Daddy...I’m sorry, stop hurting me...I’ll be a good boy, just stop hurting me…”

...Or not.

Still holding onto the child’s hand, Arthur knelt in front of the boy, a warm smile gracing his lips. “What is your name?” he asked.

The boy looked at him, clearly caught off guard by the different movement and the question. So, he said nothing for a couple minutes, then his lips parted.

“B...Bailey,” he replied quietly.

Arthur kept smiling reassuringly. “It’s nice to meet you, Bailey. I’m Arthur.”

The boy, Bailey, blinked, then proceeded to take in their surroundings. Upon seeing the grand room they were in, his mouth parted in wonder, his eyes greedily taking in the beautiful sights. However, when he looked back at Arthur, he looked...hesitant, almost like he was scolding himself for doing such a thing, that simply doing it would dirty the place.

Arthur simply gave him a warm smile, gesturing to the room. “Go ahead,” he urged gently. “You can touch them. It’s not going to damage anything.”

“But I’m--”

“I know. Just trust me.”

Bailey once more hesitated before he proceeded to slowly walk away from Arthur to explore the mansion’s entrance hall. He walked over the marble floors, fascinated by their golden color, how smooth they were, and how they remained perfectly clean even despite the dirt on his shoes.

Then Bailey reached out and touched the seats, the tables, and even the walls, and not once was any dust left behind. Upon realizing this, the kid got a little more brave and moved to sit down on the nearest sofa. He beamed when he felt how soft it was, and when he noticed that he still wasn’t leaving behind any smears of dust, he proceeded to lay down, not moving for several moments.

Arthur actually thought that Bailey fell asleep (and he knew that it was probable to happen due to how comfy the seating was), but then the kid jumped up and proceeded to look around the room with a far more excited vigor than before.

All the while, Arthur watched him, still smiling. He still thought that it was amazing that the kid had not flinched in fear at the sight of him, even though he was still in his human projection, but then supposed that the sight had not hit Bailey just yet.

It was either that, or the fact that there were scarier monsters than him, monsters that Bailey had to deal with on a daily basis until now.

Arthur clenched his teeth, feeling an odd sense of satisfaction with the knowledge that those wastes of space were now dead and rotting in the woods, their flesh soon to feed the crows and other forms of wildlife that lived in this forest. It was the least they deserved, but it was the best that Arthur could come up with at the time.

After all, his main priority was getting the kid out of there and making sure that those monsters he called parents would not lay a hand on him again.

Great, Mordred really was rubbing off on him.

Arthur looked to the mansion’s entrance, brows furrowing. It must’ve been minutes since he sent Joseph, Martin, and some of Antonio’s guards to search for Mordred, and even now, as he sat there, he wondered what was wrong. What happened for Mordred to hurt himself so, and what danger he had gotten himself into?

Arthur hated the sense of dread that rushed through him.

Laughter brought his attention back to the kid, who was still exploring the room with an excited vigor. He was smiling big, bouncing up and down on the seats in the room, running and spinning on the floors, and even staring up at the chandeliers (specifically the orange flaming candles) with amazement. So, as quickly as it came, the dread disappeared and a warm feeling filled Arthur, knowing that the kid was acting just as a kid should.

It was relieving to see that even after all the pain he went through, the kid was still able to act his age.

“This is so cool, mister!” Bailey suddenly announced, and it took Arthur a moment to realize that the little one was now in front of him again, still beaming. “Do you live here?”

Arthur quickly composed himself, smiling. “Yes, I do,” he replied. “So do many others just like me.”

“Really?” The boy’s eyes widened with wonder, and he proceeded to look around, searching for those occupants.

Arthur chuckled. “They’re not here right now,” he announced. “They’re kind of busy at the moment. However, if you want, I can show you the rest of my home while we’re waiting for them.”

The kid bounced up and down in excitement. “Yes, please!”

Arthur chuckled again, then held out his hand. Bailey looked between it and him, suddenly looking uncertain, but Arthur continued to stand there, smiling as he patiently waited for the kid to take his hand.

Then, slowly, he took it, and while holding his hand, Arthur proceeded to lead Bailey through the front half of the mansion’s hallways. He made sure to walk slowly too so that the kid could take everything in better, and it seemed to work, because he was looking at everything with wonder, greedily taking it all in.

Arthur couldn’t stop smiling at this. How could he not? It was adorable to see a kid fascinated by the things they have never seen before. After all, Lewis’ sisters were like that every time they found something fascinating.

Arthur had to keep himself from frowning at the thought of Belle, Cayenne, and Paprika. He suddenly wondered how they were doing, and hoped that they were handling what happened alright. They were still little girls after all, and while Paprika would be too young to understand death properly (at least he hoped), Belle and (maybe) Cayenne were at least old enough to have a good idea.

He even wondered if it would be a good idea to check on them once he managed.

“Mister?” The kid’s voice brought Arthur back to reality. “Are you okay? You look sad.”

Arthur looked down at him, realizing that he was crying again. He sighed, then used his free hand to wipe away his tears, only for them to keep coming.

“Did I…” Bailey suddenly looked afraid. “Did I do something wrong?”

Arthur had to keep himself from flinching. “No! No, you didn’t. I was just thinking about something.”

“Something?” repeated Bailey.

“Yes,” Arthur said with a nod. “Of course, it doesn’t matter how little I feel, for I will still cry if I feel the least bit sad.”

The kid said nothing for several moments, only allowing Arthur to continue leading him through the mansion, but this time he wasn’t taking everything in eagerly.

_Great job, Kingsmen, _he scolded himself. _You just had to be your useless self again, didn’t you?_

Arthur shook his head to get rid of the negative thoughts and smiled back down at the kid. “Enough about me,” he said. “Would you like to tell me more about yourself, Bailey?”

The kid looked up at him in surprise, then looked away sadly. “I’m nobody,” he answered. “That’s what Mommy and Daddy would tell me all the time. I’m nothing, mister, not like you are.”

Arthur frowned sadly at Bailey’s words, and had to violently squash down any signs of rage. Those two bastards, they didn’t deserve to call themselves parents, especially to this kid. He could only be glad that he offed them, and in a horrible way too, because people like them didn’t deserve to live, especially with what they do to kids, kids who simply want loving parents.

It was a feeling Arthur was too familiar with, both from adults and kids alike.

He mentally shook his head. Oh man, Mordred was really getting to him now.

Either way, Arthur stopped when he heard Bailey’s words, and he turned to fully face him, letting go of his hand so he could place both hands on the kid’s respective shoulders. Bailey watched him, confused and scared, and Arthur could only smile at him sadly as he spoke.

“Kid,” he began, “let me tell you a story. Long ago, there was a man with two friends, a man and a woman, and they were the greatest friends in the entire world to him. They went on so many adventures together, conquered so many of their fears together, and even lived together. But then something happened, and that was when the man’s friends fell in love with each other, and left behind him in the dust.”

The kid looked at him, eyes wide with astonishment, but he didn’t speak as Arthur continued.

“The man was alright with this until they started forgetting about him. They proceeded to go on adventures without him, faced more obstacles without him, and even made him feel like he never mattered to them. Maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t, it’s too late now.”

The kid blinked. “ What do you mean?” he asked quietly.

Arthur smiled sadly. “The man…” He sighed. “He was hiding a secret from them, a secret that he knew would repulse them if they knew. They did, after all, have each other and left him behind, so they wouldn’t even think to accept.”

“Accept what?” questioned Bailey.

Arthur continued to smile sadly as he looked straight into the kid’s eyes. “That he was in love with them both, and wanted to be more than friends.”

Bailey’s eyes widened, and then, just as suddenly, he looked heartbroken.

“What happened?” he then asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Tears streamed down Arthur’s face again, and he didn’t move to wipe them away. “One night, they were having another adventure,” he began. “The man didn’t want to be there, because his friends proved that they were better off, were happy, without him, but he, being an indecisive fool, went anyway, determined to make this his last adventure before he went home and left them alone forevermore.

“But then they arrived at their destination, and the man knew that the place was evil, just like the others, and he tried to warn his friends, but, like always, they didn’t listen to him. So he had no choice but to follow them in.

“The cave they went in was dark, eerie, and evil, but only the man was able to sense it. Regardless, he didn’t run, didn’t voice his concerns again, and was only able to pray that things wouldn’t go wrong, that they would get out in one piece. Then...then they came across two different paths, and it was to be determined that they were to split up to explore the place quickly.

“The man wanted to go with his friends’ dog, as that was what he had been doing ever since his two friends began dating, and that would give the two more time to themselves. But then the male friend suggested they explore the left path, the one that led to a cliff, together, while the woman and her dog took the right path, the path that would lead to the ground below. He couldn’t complain, despite how uncomfortable he was, and from there the man went with his friend up the left path.

“It was so cold in there, and as they got closer to the cliff, the man began to lose control of himself as the spirit of the cave moved to slowly possess him, his intent being to free himself from the cave he had been trapped in for hundreds of years. The man knew this, but was not aware of what the spirit’s intentions were, until they moved to push his friend off the cliff.

“He had been losing control of his body fast, and he knew that if he let the spirit win, his friend would pay the price. So he did the only thing he could do…”

The kid stared up at him, eyes still wide, but this time with clear concern and fear for this character. “What...did he do?” he asked, voice still barely a whisper.

Arthur looked away, trying to find the words to describe without scarring the kid for life. He was silent for so long, though, that the kid was looking more and more afraid, so he had to continue regardless.

“The man...sacrificed himself,” he said. “That was his only option, and he could do nothing to comfort his friends when they realized what he had done. However, he took comfort in the fact that they were safe from him, that the woman could live without having to blame herself for what happened, but was now bound to the spirit that possessed him, and nothing in the human world could tear that bond apart. The man could cope with this, as long as his friends remained happy and safe without him, and it worked. He was now ready to spend the rest of his afterlife like this.”

As soon as he was finished, Arthur realized that Bailey was looking at him with wide, teary eyes. He could only smile sadly.

“...Why?” asked Bailey. “Why did he have to…”

Arthur shook his head. “I don’t really know myself,” he lied. “All I know is that he did what he thought was best. But do you see, kid? You are not “nothing”. You are a person, a kid still in the middle of growing up, so you shouldn’t count yourself out just yet. There’s so much for you to see, to experience, so you shouldn’t give up so soon.”

Bailey stared at him, tears streaming down his dirty cheeks, but he didn’t say a word.

“Can you try that?” Arthur then pressed, still gently. “Can you at least try not to give up so soon? I know that everything will get better for you, but first, you need to trust that things will be okay. Can you do that for me?”

The kid continued to stare at him, still silently crying at the story, but as he continued to stare, he slowly nodded his head. “O-Okay,” he whispered. “I’ll try.”

Arthur smiled. “That’s better than nothing.” He then stood up. “Well, I’m sure you want to get clean before we meet the others.”

Bailey’s eyes went wide for a different reason now. “Get...clean?” he asked uncertainly.

Arthur blinked. “Yes,” he said. “You do know what a bath is, right?”

Bailey pouted in irritation. “I know what a bath is!” he protested cutely. “It’s just...Mommy and Daddy almost never let me take one.”

Arthur grit his teeth briefly. “Well, we also have more than that here, so I’m sure you will have a lot of fun with this.”

The kid blinked once more. “What do you mean?”

Arthur smiled again, holding out his hand. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

With a little less hesitation than before, the kid took his hand again, allowing Arthur to lead him to the grand bath and the changing room. They walked in silence for a few minutes before finally arriving at the door of the changing room, which once more opened by itself as they walked in.

The kid gasped when he saw the changing room and what it contained. Letting go of Arthur’s hand, he proceeded to slowly explore the room, looking into the saunas, behind the changing screens, at the lockers, and even to the door that led to the bath itself. Arthur watched as Bailey opened the door, with the steam of the room hitting him first before it cleared.

Once he saw the grand bath, Bailey’s eyes were as wide as before, only now the hesitation was back. He saw the beautiful room from its floors, to the large bath, to the floating lights, and to the marble fountain, and it was clear to Arthur that the kid was comparing himself to what he had.

Bailey then looked at Arthur. “I’m sorry,” he whimpered. “I-I’ll make your bath dirty if I go in there. I don’t want to...ruin it.”

Arthur smiled sadly, walking to the kid and kneeling to his height before placing a hand on his head.

“That’s the point of a bath, you goofball,” he said. “Besides, this bath is special. It doesn’t matter how dirty it gets, for it will always clean itself whenever it is used. Don’t be afraid of that, and no one deserves to go without a basic necessity.”

The kid blinked, still hesitant, so Arthur came up with something that might help.

“Tell you what,” he began, “how about I go in there with you first thing if you’re uncomfortable? You can also put your clothes in one of the lockers, and they will be clean by the time you get out. Does that sound good?”

Bailey stared at him again, still clearly hesitant, but then he slowly nodded, and Arthur proceeded to gently usher the kid towards one of the changing screens so that he can get changed in peace while he went to another one.

He smirked to himself as he had his clothing disappear at will. And Mordred said they wouldn’t have guests that would stay for more than one day.

Of course, it wasn’t like he needed the changing screen, but Arthur was sure that it would do him well to not spook the kid with his powers any further (if he even was, but Arthur was not willing to test the waters just yet, no pun intended).

He stayed behind the changing screen for a couple minutes before he stepped out. When he stepped out, the kid was also moving to do so, and he looked up at Arthur with his dirty clothes bundled in his arms, almost uncertain.

Arthur simply smiled and gestured him to a locker nearby, which opened by itself for Bailey to place the clothes in before it gently closed itself. When he looked at the kid again, Arthur realized that Bailey was staring at the lockers with now wondrous eyes.

“Are they...living?” he asked.

Arthur blinked, then chuckled when he realized what the kid meant. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “They do sometimes have a mind of their own, so I guess they could be alive.”

That was a lie of course, but who was he to take away this kid’s wonderment?

Arthur proceeded to lead Bailey towards the entrance of the grand bath, and the steam once more greeted them first when they entered. The sound of their bare feet hitting the marble floors was the only sound as the older of the two gently led the youngest to the bath, stepping in first so the kid could gain some courage to get in himself. Bailey was close behind, though he was a little slower getting in. However, upon feeling the perfect temperature of the water and how nice it felt on his skin, Bailey slid in, creating a little splash.

When he arose, the kid was grinning, the dirt on him coming off him in sheets while disappearing from the waters like it never existed. “This is so cool!” Bailey exclaimed with stars in his eyes as he then proceeded to go underwater several times and swim across the bath.

Arthur watched him with an amused eyebrow raised, and simply leaned back as he watched the kid have fun while also bathing himself. Still, it must’ve been a long time since the kid had ever taken a warm bath, much less have fun in general, and Arthur could only be grateful that those two monsters would not be hurting the kid anymore.

Then he heard a chime.

Arthur looked up, frowning. He knew that sound anywhere, and it was one that meant something bad happened.

“Mister?” Arthur looked to see that the kid was back near him now, having heard the chime too. “What was that?”

Arthur smiled reassuringly. “Not something you should worry about,” he replied. He then stood up. “I’m going to go out for a few minutes. You can stay in here for as long as you want, but I need to go do something real quick.”

Bailey’s eyes went wide, and he immediately looked afraid. Arthur was quick to start speaking again.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m going to make sure you aren’t by yourself. In fact, a couple of my friends would like to come out to meet you.”

Bailey looked confused, but before he could say a word, two electrobeats appeared, chirping happily while waving their stubby arms to the kid. Bailey stared at them, amazed.

Arthur continued to smile at the kid. “These two are one of my electrobeats. Adorable, aren’t they?” The two electrobeats chirped happily at that, cartoonish blushes appearing on their cheeks, and Arthur quietly cooed at the sight. “They’ll be able to keep you safe from anything big and bad, I promise.”

Bailey still looked a little frightened when he spoke next. “Will you...come back?” he asked, weakly.

“If you need me, just tell them, and one of them will come get me,” Arthur answered. “I’ll come right away, so don’t be afraid to tell them to come get me if you feel scared, alright?”

Though he still looked unsure, the poor kid nodded in understanding. “Okay,” he whispered.

Arthur smiled at Bailey before turning to leave. “I’ll be back soon,” he said while walking away.

However, when he got to the door, he remembered something, and turned back to Bailey. “Oh, before I forget, you can stay in here for as long as you like. There’s some shampoo, conditioner, and other kinds of soaps for you to use right by the statue. Also, you’re free to use the saunas when you’re done. After that, we’ll explore the rest of the mansion if you want.”

Bailey slowly nodded. “Yes, please.”

“Alright, enjoy.” Arthur then walked out of the room, gently closing the door behind him. Once the door was secured behind him, Arthur immediately had his clothes reappear on him before he faded to the entrance of the mansion.

He again didn’t want to scare the kid with this ability, so he might as well do it when he’s outside the bath.

By the time Arthur arrived at the entrance, Elizabeth was there, waiting beside Antonio. Both she and the buffer ghost quickly bowed when they saw him before Arthur spoke.

“What’s happened?” he asked. “Have Joseph and Martin found Mordred?”

“They have, Master,” Elizabeth replied. “They’re on their way back right now, but…”

Arthur frowned. “What's wrong?” he asked.

“Their presence is strong,” Antonio began, scrunching his eyes as if trying to see something too far away to identify, “but I can’t see them anywhere. Neither of my guards are able to find them either.”

“The one who attacked Mordred?” Arthur asked.

Antonio nodded. “They could still be around here, but none of us can see them.”

Arthur frowned, but before he could voice anymore of his concerns, the door opened, and in walked Joseph, Martin, and Antonio’s guards surrounding Mordred. The guards themselves did not look very different from each other with their formless bodies that they could change at will, but if Arthur could describe them, it was that they were each different colors and at this time took on the appearance of muscular, even heavily armed, people, which made them appear quite threatening.

But, then again, they always look threatening to outsiders without even trying.

Joseph and Martin stepped forward, but only after making sure that Mordred was walking ahead of them, and Antonio looked to his guards. “You are dismissed,” he said. “Please return to your posts.”

The guard ghosts placed hands over where their hearts would’ve been and slightly bowed before they faded from the spot to their various posts around the mansion. Once they were gone, Arthur went in front of Mordred, taking in his bound half’s appearance.

Overall, he didn’t look like he had been hurt, but when Arthur’s eyes scanned over the green ghost, he saw a small cut that was slowly mending itself in his shirt, though no wound was present. Not only that, but Mordred looked like he had seen Hell and came right back through his blank stare. He didn’t seem to realize that Arthur was there at first, but as Arthur continued standing there, looking over him, Mordred finally looked back at him.

“What are you doing?” he asked. Even his voice sounded empty.

“What happened, Mordred?” demanded Arthur. “You were attacked by a supernatural creature, weren’t you?”

“Don’t be ridiculo--”

“Don’t give me that!” hissed Arthur. “Nothing supernatural leaves behind a tear in your shirt that takes longer than usual to mend, nor does the feeling of you being in pain come to me at a later time!”

Mordred didn’t reply.

“Now, what. Happened. Mordred?” Arthur asked again, his tone final. “What. Did you. Do?”

Mordred stared at him for several seconds, then his lips pursed. “I fucked up, okay?” he replied. “I get it, I fucked up. I messed with the wrong creature and got my ass beaten for it. What else is there to say?”

“They are _powerful_, Mordred,” Arthur countered. “Apparently far more powerful than you if you were easily overpowered.”

Mordred glared. “Who told you that?”

“The Wrestler. Who else?”

Mordred turned his glare onto Antonio, who looked back evenly. “It was Master Arthur’s order, Master Mordred,” replied the painting ghost. “I apologize if I have offended you.”

Mordred didn’t say a word to that, only looking back at Arthur with the blank face back. “Yes, it was a powerful supernatural, and I got myself out of it. How else would I still be here?”

“Don’t dodge the subject, Mordred,” ordered Arthur with another hiss.

“I’m not “dodging the subject”,” Mordred defended. “That was simply the truth.”

“You couldn’t have gotten out of that easily,” Arthur countered once again. “Something that powerful would not let you go unless you were lucky.”

“And I was,” Mordred growled. “Nothing more, nothing less. Now, I am retiring to my room, and I do not want anyone disturbing me, understand? That also goes for you, _partner_.”

Arthur pursed his lips, glaring after Mordred as he proceeded to walk further into the mansion before he faded from sight. His fists clenching, Arthur wondered what the hell Mordred was up to now.

He couldn’t have gotten out of that lucky. There was simply no way according to the pain he felt and what Antonio had addressed.

Something was going on here, and Arthur didn’t like it. He turned to Joseph and Martin.

“What happened?” he asked. “Did you find anything amiss?”

“Other than sensing the powerful aura of this supernatural? No, we did not,” answered Joseph. “In fact, when we found Master Mordred, he was alone and was coming back to the mansion. He wouldn’t answer our questions, however.”

“I believe he is hiding something, Master Arthur, and whatever it is, it is disturbing him,” added Martin. “Joseph was able to see it as well, but even when he questioned him about it, Master Mordred still wouldn’t answer.”

Arthur frowned. “Something’s up,” he mused. He then turned to Antonio. “Antonio, I need you and your guards to keep a close eye on any forest activity, and if you see that anything’s amiss, even the slightest change, report it to me immediately. I can’t tell if this creature is still around, so we must be on high alert, especially now that we have a young guest in this mansion.”

Antonio bowed. “Of course, Master. Would you also like me to have some guards around the child?”

“Please,” Arthur answered. “The kid is not in the best of places right now, and he’s scared out of his mind after what he’s been through, so it’s essential that he feels safe while he’s here.”

“As you wish.”

Arthur then turned to Elizabeth. “Have you gotten a room ready for our guest, Elizabeth?” he asked.

“I have,” Elizabeth answered with a nod. “It is ready for the guest to use whenever he wishes. I have also placed some new clothes he could wear in the changing room, all freshly made by my girls, and they are currently washing and patching up his current clothes right now. They should be done once the boy is finished.”

Arthur nodded. “Good. Thank you, Elizabeth.” He then turned to Joseph and Martin. “And thank you both for doing this. I’m glad that you all came back safe and sound. I don’t have any new duties for you at the moment, so you’re free to do what you must around the mansion.”

Both Joseph and Martin bowed in thanks. “Thank you, Master,” they replied simultaneously. “You are very generous.”

Arthur simply smiled. “You don’t need to thank me. Really.”

Both of the painting ghosts scoffed good-naturedly, but otherwise didn’t make a reply before they faded from the spot, leaving Arthur with Antonio and Elizabeth.

It was quiet for a few seconds before Arthur straightened up. “I’m going to go check on our guest,” he said. “The electrobeats I left with him are saying he’s doing well, that he’s finished with his bath, and is now using one of the saunas. I’m sure he’ll want to be in there for a little bit, but I’m going to check on him before I have him meet you. I promised him that I would, and I think it would help him feel safe when he knows who he’s going to share the mansion with for the time being.”

Both Antonio and Elizabeth nodded. “Of course, Master,” said the latter. “Don’t let us keep you then.”

Arthur nodded, and faded to the changing room of the grand bath, immediately seeing that the sauna that used rocks and hot water was being used. At the door, the two electrobeats were stationed at both sides, making sure that they were seen through the blurred door so the kid would know that they were there. Arthur smiled at this; those two were really taking this seriously.

Upon seeing him, the electrobeats chirped, even happily waving at him. Arthur smiled and waved back, quietly cooing at how cute they were, then approached the door and gently knocked three times.

A small yelp was heard on the inside nonetheless. _“W-Who’s there?” _called the sauna’s current occupant.

“It’s Arthur,” Arthur answered. “Is it alright if I join you?”

He had since made his clothes disappear again, only wearing a towel around his waist, as he patiently awaited the kid’s answer. It was silent for a moment.

_“Y-Yes, you can come in.”_

Arthur slightly nodded to himself before he opened the door, allowing the steam of the room to hit him as he walked in before he closed it. The first thing that greeted Arthur’s eyes was the rich mahogany wooden floors, walls, ceiling, and stair-like seats located on the right side of the sauna and in front of him, then the floating yellow lights which created a warm color throughout the room, and a gray oval-shaped stove in the middle that contained hot rocks with a bucket full of water next to it, burning with a magical golden fire.

Then Arthur saw Bailey sitting in the farthest corner of the sauna, wrapped only in a towel and holding his knees to his chest. He looked afraid, though that vanished when he saw Arthur, and he weakly smiled at him.

Arthur frowned in concern, sitting down on the nearest bench. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Did something happen while I was gone?”

The kid shook his head. “N-No, nothing’s happened. You just...scared me, that’s all. I’m sorry, mister.”

Arthur shook his head, smiling gently. “Don’t be,” he said. “In fact, I should be the one apologizing for scaring you like that. I didn’t mean to do it.”

Bailey looked surprised. “D-Don’t apologize! It wasn’t your fault, mister!” The kid even wove his hands in front of himself hastily.

Arthur chuckled. “Alright, alright, please don’t give yourself a heart attack.” Once Bailey managed to relax, Arthur went on. “Anyway, did you enjoy your bath?”

Bailey smiled, all previous worry seemingly forgotten. “It was so fun! I didn’t know baths could be so fun. Thank you for letting me use it, mister!”

“It’s no problem. I’m really glad you had fun.”

“Thank you, mister! Um, do you think I...can use it again sometime?” the kid then asked, once more looking hesitant to even voice that question.

Arthur kept smiling. “Of course you can. You can even use the saunas anytime you wish. They are here for a reason.”

Bailey smiled weakly, but it was genuine, so Arthur had to go with that. “Um...mister, if you don’t mind, what do you do?”

“Hm?” Arthur looked at the kid, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Are you...a rich man?” Bailey looked nervous when he asked that. “I’ve only heard the stories, but...but I heard that only people who have a lot of money can get these places.”

Eyebrows shooting up in understanding, Arthur shook his head. “No, I’m not a rich man,” he admitted. “Never have been, actually.”

“Really?” The kid looked stunned at this. “But...you live here, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Arthur answered, “but compared to a lot of the places that people with a lot of money are able to afford, this place is different. Very different.”

“How?”

Arthur didn’t answer for a moment, trying to come up with a good explanation. From the way he was talking, Bailey didn’t seem to think that he was a ghost, or anything but a human despite what he saw him do.

His chest started to hurt a little at this. Even with the background he came from, this kid was still able to be an innocent kid.

“Well, in this place, and where I’m from, money doesn’t really matter,” Arthur then answered. “No one cares if you are able to afford something or not, for as long as you match their expectations of strength and ability, they don’t care where you reside.”

The kid’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?” he asked. “What kind of place are you from?”

“I don’t know,” Arthur replied. “It doesn’t have a name, and not very many people can access it. All I can say is that it is different from the society you live in, but at the same time not. It’s confusing, I know, but that’s the best way I can describe it.”

“Then...can I live here?”

Arthur went silent, looking upon the kid with a slightly surprised expression. Bailey looked hopeful, finally seeing an opportunity to escape the life he had lived before, and Arthur could feel his anchor crack a little at the sight.

This kid truly didn’t understand, and Arthur wasn’t sure if he hated or admired it.

“I’m not sure,” Arthur finally replied. “We will have to see later.” He then heard another slight chime in his ear, only this time the kid didn’t hear it.

“Oh, it seems your clothes have been washed and dried. Are you ready to go?” asked Arthur.

The kid looked a little surprised at the question, but, upon feeling how pruny his fingers and toes had become, he nodded a little.

Smiling slightly, Arthur stood up, walked to the door, and prepared to open it. “Well, brace yourself,” he warned before he opened it.

The cool air of the changing room hit them, and Arthur noticed Bailey shivering slightly. He gently guided the kid to one of the changing stations (where he spotted a set of clean clothes waiting) before going behind one himself, his clothing appearing on him once more. He then waited until he heard the kid finishing up before stepping out. Shortly after, the kid stepped out himself, dressed in a beautiful cotton nightshirt and pants that provided much needed warmth for his small body.

Bailey then yawned, and Arthur frowned briefly before putting a smile back on his face.

Did...did he just see little Paprika?

No, that can’t be. She wasn’t here. No one from Tempo was here, nor would they ever be.

“Are you tired?” he then asked.

Bailey nodded slightly, but then quickly said, “But I still want to meet the people living with you!”

“And you will,” Arthur promised, “but I’m sure you would not want to meet someone when you’re sleepy. Besides, a room has been prepared for you, and you, as a kid, still need a lot of sleep, so it would be best if we head off to bed now.”

The kid pouted, but before he could protest, he yawned again, unable to hide how tired he was.

Arthur had to resist the urge to smile sadly. That face reminded him so much of Cayenne and Belle, especially when they were tired but didn’t want to go to bed.

Cayenne...Belle...Paprika…

“Mister?” Bailey’s voice snapped Arthur from his thoughts. “Are you okay?”

Arthur realized he was crying again, and he could only smile a watery smile. “I’m alright,” he said. “It’s just me being me again. Don’t worry.”

Chirps were heard behind Bailey, and Arthur looked up to see the two electrobeats frowning at him sadly. Strange, how could he have forgotten that they were there in the first place?

He didn’t think too hard into it before he grabbed Bailey’s hand. “Come on now, let’s get you to bed, shall we?”

He didn’t wait for a reply as he gently guided the kid out of the changing room and proceeded to lead him towards the room Elizabeth prepared. For several minutes, neither said a word, and Arthur could sense that Bailey was back to looking around and taking in their surroundings. The taller of the two could only be thankful that he was looking away, because he did not want the kid to see his otherworldly tears anymore than he had today.

It was strange, that the kid didn’t question him about them, and he didn’t know whether to be thankful or a little concerned.

It didn’t matter though, Arthur was just going to have to focus on gaining whatever control he could on his independent emotions. He didn’t need to be crying anymore tonight, especially around a kid.

Even if that kid reminded him of Lewis’ little sisters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"Behind all those scars,_
> 
> _Lied an innocent smile,_
> 
> _It never came around for a while,_
> 
> _The beautiful mess that she is,_
> 
> _Fell in love with her scars,_
> 
> _Including this..."_
> 
> _\--Nivi (or Niveditha) on YourQuote.com___


	17. Little One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really need to say this, because writer’s block is a BITCH!
> 
> I’m really sorry that I took this long. Again, writer’s block was not being kind to me, I didn’t have a lot of inspiration to continue this, and I have recently gotten a job as a morning stocker, which has been helping me deal with my depression and is (hopefully) giving me more inspiration to write.
> 
> Finally, I’m hoping to update Beautiful Minds after this, and I swear I will get each of these fanfics done if it’s the last thing I do.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and Happy Independence Day!

Soft.

So soft.

He couldn’t remember ever feeling this comfy every time he woke up in the mornings. He also couldn’t remember the last time he woke up to blissful, peaceful silence, or when he just felt...safe waking up.

Bailey opened his eyes when he realized that this bed didn’t feel like his, and the first thing that greeted him were silky, orange covers that belonged to a large, rectangular bed. The bed was big, much bigger than his own; in fact it was so big that Bailey was sure that it could fit more than one of him.

Still, he appreciated the space, because that meant he could move a lot more freely than he would be able to in his own bed.

But...what was he doing in this bed?

...Oh, wait, that’s right.

That very nice man saved him and brought him to this big house, giving him a bath, allowing him to go into one of his many steamy rooms, giving him clean clothes, and even gave him this room to sleep in.

Sitting up now, Bailey further took in his surroundings.

Compared to his room back home, this room was larger and was squeaky clean, no flaw anywhere to be found. The bed was located across from the door and was even located in an circular alcove, a window (which was currently concealed with dark yellow curtains) was on the wall by the bed in said alcove, a small hanging chair was by the far right side of the bed and was covered with a type of soft orange carpet and contained a brighter orange pillow, a bookshelf that contained various books was behind it, two doors were on the left, a vanity table was located between them, and there was even a small table his height right in front of the hanging chair.

Yawning a little, Bailey stepped out of bed, loving the feeling of the rich dark carpet under his feet compared to the cold hardwoods at home. He also took note that the walls were a rich mahogany and seemed to shine in what little light there was in the room, and that there was a currently unlit yet beautiful golden chandelier above him.

It just seemed too good to be true, and Bailey hoped that it wasn’t.

He didn’t want to go back home. Mommy and Daddy would only subject him to that horrible place again in addition to the hurt.

Bailey inhaled; he didn’t want to think of that, and the nice man said that Mommy and Daddy were not going to hurt him anymore (whatever that meant). However, as he inhaled, he realized that he smelled something quite good.

Looking upwards, Bailey realized that it was coming from the area above the bed. There was a staircase on the left side of the bed that curved inward, and there was another set on the right. The stairs led to a small platform above the alcove the bed was located in, and from there Bailey could see a small table and chair that contained a plate and a cup.

So, walking up the opalescent steps, Bailey was surprised to see a plate full of pancakes, eggs, and bacon waiting for him on a pearly white plate, along with what appeared to be apple juice in a crystal clear cup.

Slowly, he approached the table, wondering if it was a trick. It all smelled so good, and he really wanted to eat it, but...was this even real?

Just then Bailey spotted a piece of paper on the table by the food, and he quickly read.

_We didn’t know what you like, so we hope this is alright. Eat as much as you want. We will meet you later.  
_ _~~~E_

The handwriting was so pretty, Bailey thought, and he found himself looking between the food and the letter, at a loss at what to do. He really wanted to eat this all, but, at the same time, should he? He didn’t deserve such a full meal after all.

But...Mommy and Daddy weren’t here, so they couldn’t get mad if he ate all of this. Besides, the writer of this note said he could eat as much as he pleased, so Bailey couldn’t find a proper reason to not eat it.

So, sitting down at the table, Bailey grabbed the fork beside the plate and proceeded to eat.

Holy cow, it was so good! He never thought that pancakes, bacon, eggs, and even the apple juice would taste this good. Bailey suddenly felt honored that the people living in this awesome place would serve him this kind of food and juice, and he couldn’t help but cry a little.

These people...that nice man...they were so kind to him, and he didn’t know what he did to deserve such kindness.

Eventually, Bailey had eaten and drank everything, but now suddenly wondered what he should do with the dirty dishes? Should he leave them here, or should he take them with him to the kitchen? He wanted to do the latter—after all, it was the least he could do to repay them for their kindness—but the problem was that he didn’t even know where the kitchen is.

Well, he didn’t seem to have any other options, did he?

With a sigh, Bailey stood up and walked back down the small set of stairs, deciding to explore the room a little more since the note didn’t say anything about leaving the room once he was done eating. He sat on the hanging chair, giggling at how cool it was to be in one; he looked through the bookshelf, finding a lot of children’s books that looked interesting; he sat down at the little table, wondering if he could use it for reading or even drawing later; he looked through the vanity table, finding a lot of lotions, creams, colognes, brushes, jewelry, and even a first aid kit; he laid down on the carpet, loving how soft it was against his skin; and he proceeded to look through the two doors he saw earlier.

The first door, Bailey realized, was a closet full of magnificent clothes that would suit both boys’ and girls’ tastes from its various child suits and trousers to its beautiful dresses. There were also shoes that ranged from size to size, ties, belts, headbands, ribbons, and other kinds of jewelry that would be seen on clothes from the looks of it. Bailey stared at the clothes, taken aback.

...so cool…

Eventually though, Bailey had to close the closet and move on to the other door, which he opened with an excited vigor. It was dark, but as Bailey opened the door, the smaller chandelier within lit up with orange flames, finally revealing the room within.

It was a bathroom, Bailey realized with a gob-smack, and his excitement grew as he took in how beautiful the place looked. Like the room he slept in, this bathroom was much larger than any bathroom he had at home, and (obviously) was far more grand. The floors and walls were made of pure white tile, while the ceiling matched.

And on his left, a grand sink vanity sat, taking up nearly one part of the entire wall on that side, and it was also pure white in color while the sink and faucet appeared to be made of pure gold. The faucet’s channel was also open, the handles were curved (almost like vines), and there were also drawers underneath the sink, likely containing a lot of good stuff.

Ahead of Bailey, there was the shower and the bath, the former of which was surrounded by glass, contained a square-shaped shower head, buttons that could do so many different things, and even a stool to sit on, while the latter was a pure white soaking tub, specifically one that had various different options for a great bathing experience. In between them was a towel rack that was currently void of any hanging towel, though the door right next to the bath appeared to hold all the towels.

Finally, a toilet was located on the right side of the bathroom, was again pure white, and overall just looked clean and good to use.

Bailey was sure he had stars in his eyes when he saw this. This was just...so cool! But even now, he couldn’t believe that that nice man would ever allow him to use this. He had no right!

But...this man was allowing him to stay, and Bailey could only hope that he wouldn’t mind if he used this bathroom.

Though, as he went to the sink, Bailey found himself a little lost.

Where did they keep a toothbrush and toothpaste?

~~~

After many misadventures in the bathroom, Bailey managed to find what he was looking for, and proceeded to brush his teeth, brush his hair, and even find a washcloth to wash his face. He felt more awake then ever afterwards for some odd reason, and assumed it must’ve been the water.

The water felt and tasted so pure, and Bailey wasn’t sure how that was even possible, but it was. He couldn’t detect any impurities in it, and he didn’t know how that was possible, but it was perfect, clean water.

He didn’t have that back at home.

Just then, as he was finishing up, a knock came at the bedroom door, and Bailey jumped. Just as he recovered though, a feminine voice came through.

“Pardon me, young sir, I am coming in.” Just then the door opened, and Bailey didn’t even hear footsteps when the door closed or even after that.

It was so weird.

“Forgive me, young sir, I didn’t mean to startle you. Would you like me to leave?”

Bailey flinched. “No, no, please!” he called back. “You just startled me is all. I-I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Understood. Your clothes are on your bed when you are ready for them. Take you time, please. I will be waiting outside.”

“T-Thank you,” Bailey stammered, and just then, the door opened and closed again.

He stayed in the bathroom for a few minutes more before he slowly went out, finding no one there, but on the now made bed (which was pretty weird), he spotted his clothes from the night before. Walking up to them, he couldn’t even take note on how quickly the bed was made, but how _new_ his clothes looked.

There were no holes that he could see, not even any stitches that fixed up said holes. The fabrics were also void of any dirt and grime, and now the clothes’ actual colors were showing, looking brand new. When Bailey touched them, he found that they felt so soft and new, so different from his old clothes from before, but at the same time, so familiar.

Quickly, Bailey stripped himself of his nightclothes, deciding to place them on the bed after he folded them as best he could, though he still felt inadequate to how well folded his clothes came in. After that, he put his old (and new) clothes on, loving how soft they felt against him and how clean they felt.

It just felt...too good to be true.

He then called out. “I’m done!”

Immediately, his bedroom door opened, and in walked a pretty lady with long flowing dark pink hair that floated behind her, a long black dress with a white apron over it and cuffs, and a white bonnet that Bailey swore he only saw in historical TV shows and movies. Her eyes were also a warm pink color, her skin was pale, and her body was curvy and a little pudgy around the edges.

But that only made her look more pretty.

The woman smiled at him, a warm smile. “Greetings, young sir,” she greeted, her voice melodic and soothing, like a mother’s. “Did you have a good night? I hope the breakfast was to your standards.”

Bailey blushes. “I-I slept really well, and the food was amazing! Thank you for letting me use this room, and to eat that food!” Realizing how fast he was talking, Bailey blushed, embarrassed.

But the woman only smiled. “I’m glad,” she said. “Master Arthur wanted to make sure that you were not uncomfortable here.” She sighed happily. “He is such a good man.”

Bailey nodded. “He really is nice.”

The woman continued to smile at him warmly, then she gestured to the door. “Well, Master Arthur is expecting us, so we must not keep him waiting.”

Bailey blinked. However, before he could say anything, the woman once again gestured him to the door, and immediately turning red with embarrassment, he began walking out the door, the woman following behind him while the door closed itself behind them.

As they walked, Bailey spoke again. “What’s your name?” he asked shyly.

The woman smiled again behind him. “I am Maia, young sir,” she answered.

Bailey smiled back shyly. “Hi, Maia,” he said. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

Maia bowed slightly, even while they were walking. “It’s my pleasure, young sir.”

~~~

Maia ended up taking Bailey to a room located in a far corner of the mansion, the entrance of which possessed large grand doors that appeared to be very heavy. However, Maia opened them without too much fuss. Or, rather, they seemed to open themselves.

She then walked in first. “I have brought him, my lord,” she announced.

“Thank you, Maia,” replied a familiar voice. “Please let him through.”

At this, Maia stepped aside, ushering Bailey to go in before her. When Bailey walked into the room, he immediately realized that the room seemed to be some kind of extravagant living room, with a low coffee table in the middle of two elegant bright orange sofas, a bright red carpet underneath them, shining hardwood floors underneath, a fireplace that was currently void of any flames, another elegant chandelier above, and windows that overlooked the forest outside and also allowed the sunlight to cast natural lighting into the room.

And on the two sofas was the nice man, as well as a pretty lady with purple hair and a pretty dress, a big man with no shirt and a very bright mask, another man who appeared very sharp, and a last man who wore dark robes.

The nice man smiled when he saw him. “Oh, good morning, Bailey,” he greeted. “I hope you have had a good night?”

Bailey blushed, nodding sheepishly. “Yes sir,” he said, voice low and shy.

At this, the nice man frowned. “I hope I haven’t made you uncomfortable,” he said. “If I have, please let me know.”

Bailey couldn’t even respond to that.

After a few seconds of silence, the purple lady stood up. “Maia, do you mind getting us some tea, please?” She then looked at Bailey. “Do you like tea, young man?”

Bailey flinched a little. “I’ve...never tried it,” he admitted.

“Oh. Then would apple juice be better?” the lady then asked.

Still blushing shyly, Bailey nodded. “Yes...please.”

Nodding, the lady looked to Maia, who nodded, bowed, and was suddenly gone from the room, and Bailey didn’t even see her leave.

He stared at the place she used to be, bewildered, until the nice man spoke up.

“Come, sit,” he ushered gently. “Maia shouldn’t take too long, and I’m sure you must be overwhelmed.”

Bailey didn’t respond to that, but as he saw no reason to refuse the nice man’s offer, he walked over, sitting right next to him.

As soon as he hit the sofa’s cushions, Bailey swore he could’ve melted at how soft they were. He didn’t even think such cushions could even exist.

After all, the cushions the sofas had at home were scratchy and uncomfortable.

The nice man then turned to him. “Allow me to introduce a couple of my home’s residents.” He then gestured to the people across from him. “This is Elizabeth, Antonio, Joseph, and Martin. They are my closest companions.”

The lady, Elizabeth, nodded in greeting to him with a smile, somehow looking even more pretty as she did it. “It is a pleasure to meet you, young man.”

“Hola, chico,” greeted Antonio.

“Greetings, young man,” said Joseph.

“Hello to you, young Bailey,” finished Martin.

Bailey stares at each and every one of them with amazement, then opened his mouth to introduce himself again.

Elizabeth held up a hand, stopping him. “That won’t be necessary,” she said. “You have made enough introductions.”

Bailey blushed and almost squeaked in embarrassment. “S-Sorry!” he squeaked.

“Don’t be.” Elizabeth smiled at him, warm and understanding. “It’s nice to see that trait in a young boy. Don’t be ashamed of it.”

“O-Okay…”

At this time, Maia returned with a pitcher full of drinks. Bailey was able to make out a pristine white teapot, several elegant cups, as well as a glass full of apple juice. She then set the tray on the table before them, bowing as she stepped away, hands clasped in front of her.

The adults nodded to her, smiling softly. “Thank you, Maia,” the nice man said.

“It is my pleasure, Master Arthur.” Maia said this with another bow.

“You are dismissed.”

Maia bowed again before she faded from the room in front of Bailey’s eyes. He watched, amazed and shocked, and this made Elizabeth chuckle.

“It is just a perk of those who live in this mansion, child,” she said. “Do not worry about it.”

Bailey frowned, but otherwise nodded as he was handed the cup of apple juice.

Like the one from breakfast, this tasted delicious, but as he watched the adults drink the tea, he somehow felt inadequate compared to them. They looked amazing just taking sips from the cups, and he tried to follow their example, but it just didn’t feel natural to him.

None of the adults commented on this, which Bailey was grateful for. They continued drinking their respective drinks in silence before they set the empty cups down on the tray and turned to Bailey.

“How are you feeling?” the nice man asked.

Bailey almost flinched from being startled. “G-Good!” he said. “T-Thank you for everything!”

“It’s not a problem,” said the man, smiling warmly. “I’m glad that you liked everything so far. Though, now that you are rested, do you still want to do a tour around the mansion?”

Bailey’s eyes went wide. “You’re not...busy?” he asked.

The nice man laughed. “Of course not! I won’t be busy for awhile; in fact neither will Elizabeth, Antonio, Joseph, or Martin. They’ve really wanted to show you around ever since I brought you here.”

Bailey beamed. “Really?” he asked.

The adults nodded with their own joyful smiles. “Of course!” said Antonio. “We’ve been wanting to do that for awhile! It’s been so long since we’ve given anyone a tour!”

Bailey smiled, unable to help himself. “I-I’d love to! Thank you!”

“No problem, chico.” All five adults stood up, and Bailey followed their example. The nice man then gestured to the door with his hand.

“Shall we?”

Bailey smiled and nodded, eagerly taking his hand as he proceeded to be led on a tour throughout the mansion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The room Bailey described is a drawing room, and, due to his age, I don’t think he would know what a drawing room is at this time.
> 
> Also, before anyone asks, the ghosts are drinking the tea to appear normal. Once again, they can’t actually taste it, but they are doing this so Bailey would not feel awkward to be the only one drinking something. It really doesn’t take much to see that one would feel awkward when one is doing something that other people aren’t doing.
> 
> Finally, again, I’m sorry that this took so long, and I apologize if this seems rushed. This also is not as long as I like, but I wanted to get this published. You guys have waited long enough. Hopefully the next chapter will be longer. Though, please expect it to take a long time, because, again, my inspiration to write has been dwindling, causing writer’s block and for me to skip several chapters to write future ones. So, the good news about that is once we get to the point of those chapters being published, I will publish two or three chapters at once.
> 
> And hopefully it will be very, very soon.


	18. In My Field of Paper Flowers

This was probably the first time in such a long time that Arthur genuinely smiled.

They were in the middle of touring around the mansion, and Bailey was taking everything in with an excited vigor, asking the painting ghosts all kinds of questions about what certain rooms served as, how many people served under them, and even how long they had lived in the mansion. All four ghosts answered those questions as best they could without giving away anything that could potentially scare the boy, and Arthur lagged behind, smiling at the scene.

“You live here?!”

“Yes, we all lived here for awhile.”

“Are these real?!”

“Of course! They’re quite beautiful, aren’t they?”

“What kinds of flowers are these?”

“Roses, sunflowers, lavenders, black-eyes susans, anemones, daisies, bluebells, chives, poppies, carnations, violets, camellias, chrysanthemums, lilies, forget-me-nots, orchids, irises, and tulips.”

“Wow, you have lilies in the pond too?”

“That we do!”

“How many of you live here?”

“Hm...I think around 40 to 45?”

“Really?! Wow!”

They were out in the garden now, which was located near the rooftop of the mansion, and even though the roof didn’t appear to be allowing the sun in, the appearance of windows would contradict that, meaning that while the roof would have the appearance of roof tiles on the outside, they would be windows on the inside.

As for the garden, it was large, with all kinds of flowers and plants located everywhere. There were many beautiful paths throughout it, complete with green hedges, very colorful flowers, green trees, evenly cut grass, a large four-tier water fountain in the middle of it all, streams and lakes full of clean fresh water and even lily pads complete with fully-bloomed lilies that ranged from pink to white, benches that were scattered throughout the garden, birds, and even honeybees and very colorful butterflies fertilizing them.

At the moment, the painting ghosts were leading Bailey through the garden, showing him the various flowers and allowing him to marvel at the butterflies and bees flying everywhere, while Arthur once again stayed back. Antonio had the kid up on his shoulder, which Bailey was very fascinated about and of which appeared to make the buff ghost quite proud of himself. The other ghosts seemed to notice this as well, as Elizabeth and Martin simply smiled at them while Joseph gave a quiet chuckle.

But now, seeing that they stopped walking once they reached the middle of the garden, Arthur sat down on one of the nearby benches, watching as the painting ghosts continued to entertain the kid.

“You can play in the pond, if you want,” Elizabeth proposed.

“Really?!” Bailey asked, looking up to her. “You would let me do that?”

“But of course!” Elizabeth responded. “They are not just for show. You are also more than welcome to play in the fountain too.”

Bailey’s eyes lit up with wonder, but then the hesitation from before returned. “A-Are you sure?” he asked. “I don’t...want to soil the water.”

“And you won’t,” reassured Martin. “Besides, you are a child, and should be allowed to act like a child. You have not destroyed anything, and you won’t be able to in this place. So go on, have fun.”

The kid still looked conflicted, but eventually relented after seeing the supportive looks of the ghosts before him, even Arthur’s, who simply smiled and gestured for him to go play when the kid looked his way. As he played in the fountain and went to observe the streams and pond though, the childlike curiosity returned, and Bailey proceeded to have fun once more.

Arthur watched him from where he was, still smiling happily at the seeing the kid act his age. He allowed himself to dip his feet into the stream and play with the lily pads and their flowers when he found how pleasantly cool the water felt on his skin, went to smell the flowers, and even proceeded to play with the flowers that he had permission to pick.

Arthur wasn’t sure what Bailey was doing with the flowers exactly; he was just happy the kid was having fun.

At this point, the painting ghosts joined him on the bench, also happy to see the kid having fun.

“I’m amazed,” said Joseph, his voice soft. “Even after everything he has been through, he is still able to be a child.”

“Well, consider that a blessing, hombre,” replied Antonio. “That doesn’t happen all the time.”

“Wrestler,” scolded Martin. “Do not think about it. We do not want the boy to hear.”

Antonio appeared to shrink in size when he heard this. “Lo siento,” he mumbled.

“Still”—Martin turned to Arthur—“what are you planning to do with him, Master Arthur?”

Arthur looked at him. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“You know that we can’t let the boy stay here forever.” Martin looked back to Bailey, who was still having the time of his life, unaware of their conversation. “I, too, am worried about what will happen once he goes back to the land of the living, but you know we cannot let him stay here. He isn’t ready for this world, and we all know that he will discover who we are eventually if we let him stay.”

No one spoke for several seconds, a grim feeling hovering over them. Eventually, though, Arthur sighed. “I haven’t decided yet,” he admitted. “All I know is that Bailey is not ready to return to that place yet. He’s still not in the right state of mind, and I know that if we let him go now, it will be asking for disaster to happen.”

“Master…”

“After all, I’m supposed to be The Protector,” Arthur continued sadly, causing more tears to spill over. “I don’t want to fail him, I don’t want to fail anyone ever again.”

Elizabeth placed a hand over his shoulder. “And it’s okay to think that, Master,” she reassured softly. “Bailey is, after all, a child who has not had the best home life. Not only that, but we do need to decide what we’re going to do with him first before we let him go. We can’t just take him out of the pan only to throw him into the fire. That would be cruel of us and put us on the level of the people who hurt him.”

Seeing her reasoning, everyone nodded in agreement, but then Joseph spoke up.

“However, I agree with Martin, Master Arthur. Bailey is a child, and a human child at that. Many of the guests invited to this mansion specifically target children, especially children who come from abusive backgrounds. When I looked into his soul, I see that it would be the perfect meal for such monsters.”

Arthur clenched his fist at this. “So what do you propose we do, Judge?” he asked.

Joseph thought for a moment. “I’m not sure if Master Mordred will allow it, but I believe that if we also talk to him, he will also be able to protect young Bailey from anything.”

Arthur looked at Joseph incredulously, as did Antonio. “Are you crazy, Judge?” the latter harshly whispered. “You know that Master Mordred is not particularly fond of children!”

Joseph nodded. “Yes, I am aware of that,” he said calmly. “However, Master Mordred made a promise to Master Arthur that he will help protect those who deserve the protection of them both. Also, Master Mordred made it clear that he only can not tolerate the children that misbehave, which young Bailey is not. In fact, not once has that boy misbehaved during his stay here, and I’m sure that Master Mordred will be pleased to hear that.”

Antonio didn’t reply to that, though it wasn’t hard to see that he was still hesitant to see Joseph’s reasoning, which Arthur couldn’t blame him for. This was, after all, Mordred they were talking about. Who knows what that man will think to do with Bailey should the boy do something that he didn’t like. Even now Arthur shuddered just thinking about it.

But still…

“Okay,” he said, drawing everyone’s attention to him. “I’ll talk to Mordred when I see him about this. Though, please don’t expect it to be easy, Joseph.”

Joseph nodded. “I know. Thank you, Master.”

Arthur nodded back, and at this point, Bailey returned, a large smile on his face as he held five different flower crowns in his arms, all of which were made from different flowers. Seeing this, Arthur leaned forward, tilting his head to the side.

“What do you have there, Bailey?” he asked.

Smiling big, Bailey gingerly set down the crowns, then proceeded to give the last one he was holding to Arthur. “I made these for all of you. I thought that they were beautiful, and wanted to make some for you.”

Arthur lightly gasped at this, as did the other painting ghosts. Looking at the flower crown that Bailey was offering him, he was able to spot black-eyes susans, chrysanthemums, and even roses and orchids, the latter of which were pinkish purple and blue respectively. With all of those flowers combined, the flower crown looked so beautiful.

Eyes wide, Arthur gingerly took the crown from Bailey, unable to respond as the kid then proceeded to give crowns to the painting ghosts, each of which contained flowers that matched their color schemes and of which meant what each painting ghost represented.

In fact, Arthur could feel them staring at their flower crowns in astonishment.

“You...made these for us?” asked Joseph, and for the first time, Arthur swore he heard...something akin to confusion in The Judge’s voice as he stared at the crown that was made up of purple and white flowers, with a singular red flower in it.

Bailey grinned up at them. “Yup!” he chirped. “I thought those flowers fit you perfectly, so I thought you would like some flower crowns.”

No one said a word as they stared at their respective crowns, and Arthur could feel tears streaming down his cheeks again as he took in the purple roses and blue orchids.

Why? Why did these flowers remind him so much of Lewis and Vivi? How could this kid have known?

No, he couldn’t have known, but why would he pick these flowers for him?

Arthur closed his eyes, trying to keep his mind from turning against him once more as Bailey stared at him in panic.

“Mister?” he called. “W-What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong?”

Arthur shook his head. “No…” he said, voice weak. “It’s not you...I...I…”

Without even thinking, he stood up and immediately faded from the garden to his room, still clutching the crown. There, he began crying again, unable to stop himself.

He knew that he was scaring the kid, probably making him think that he did something wrong, but Arthur couldn’t let him see him like this. If he did, then the damage would be irreversible.

He couldn’t do that to a kid, especially a kid like Bailey.

The electrobeats were back out at this point, cuddling close to their master in an effort to comfort him, but Arthur couldn’t stop.

“I can’t stop,” he whispered brokenly. “Every time I look at that kid, I always think I see Paprika, Cayenne, or even Belle looking back at me. Why? Why can’t I move on?!”

Burying his hands into his electrical hair, which was now sparking like crazy, Arthur continued to furiously cry out. “They aren’t a part of my life anymore! Why am I still thinking of them?! Why?!”

Orange surrounded him and expanded throughout the room, all while Arthur continued sobbing himself into a stupor. He felt so stupid, so pathetic, and he couldn’t stop even it! Why? Why wouldn’t it stop?!

Was this his punishment for wanting something he could never have? Was he doomed to be like this forever? Heh, no wonder Mordred found his emotional outbursts annoying.

He couldn’t seem to let go, and even now, he couldn’t stop.

Just then, he felt a presence in the room, causing Arthur to glance out of his hands to see Elizabeth, tears streaming down her cheeks in the orange-filled room, but she silently approached and sat down on the bed next to him all the same. Taking his hand in hers, she proceeded to rub his knuckles, not saying a word.

Somehow, her being there made things worse, as all Arthur could see was Mrs. Pepper looking at him. Why? Why was she here? What did she want from him?

Even then, all Arthur could do was cry his soul raw, unable to do anything else. He also clung to Elizabeth’s hand, hard, for it was the only thing he could do, the only thing that kept him in reality, and he hated it.

He hated it so, so much.

Eventually, he stopped, and the aura vanished, allowing Elizabeth to ease her own tears. At that moment, Arthur realized there was something on her head.

It was purple and black in color with a white and blue mixed in. Then, seeing the curves and creases of what made those colors, Arthur realized what it was.

The flower crown Bailey made for her.

Seeing that he saw, Elizabeth smiled softly, gingerly taking the flower crown Arthur didn’t realize he was still clutching into with her free hand, and placing it around his head, adjusting it until she was satisfied. After that, she continued to smile softly at him.

Arthur looked away. “I messed up, didn’t I?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. “The kid must think I hate him now.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “You didn’t mess up,” she reassured. “Yes, you did give the poor child quite a scare, but he understood.”

Arthur looked at her. “You told him, didn't you?” he asked.

“Not everything,” Elizabeth admitted. “Only how bad those memories were for you. He doesn’t know who they are, and what they did, just that he understands.”

“They did nothing wrong, Elizabeth,” Arthur countered, exhausted. “You know as well as I that the only one in the wrong is me.”

Elizabeth didn’t respond at first, though her smile disappeared into a sad frown. “Master,” she began, “I’m not going to tell you who I think was in the wrong or who was in the right, but I’m sure you noticed the pattern.”

Arthur said nothing.

“I know you don’t blame them for what they did, but you do have to admit that they have hurt you. Unintentional though it may be, they still hurt you, and never realized it. Again, I’m not going to tell you what you should or shouldn’t believe; that is more of Joseph’s duty, but even I can tell how much it has hurt you. We all do.”

Once again, Arthur said nothing.

“Just know that we are here for you, Master.” Elizabeth briefly tightened her grip on his hand. “Whatever you decide to do, just know that we will support you all the way, no matter what.”

At this, Arthur looked away. She shouldn’t be saying those words to him; he didn’t deserve them. Still, he knew that Elizabeth couldn’t really even hope to understand, as it was his fault that he felt the way he did and still does, that all he was was a burden. She couldn’t deny that he was better off out of their lives, whether or not she disagreed with him.

He knew it, and there was no point in denying it.

Eventually, he turned back to her. “We should go back,” he proposed. “I really don’t want the kid to blame himself for this.”

Elizabeth nodded and stood up with him. “Of course.”

With that, the electrobeats disappeared into Arthur’s anchor, and Arthur and Elizabeth immediately went back to the garden, where they saw the other painting ghosts talking to Bailey, clearly trying to comfort him, especially if the guilty expression on the kid’s face was any indication.

A small crack appeared in his anchor while another tear fell; he really did mess up, didn’t he?

Without saying anything, Arthur and Elizabeth stepped forward, and hearing their footsteps, the group before them looked their way.

Immediately, the men stood up, bowing. “Welcome back, Master,” greeted Joseph. “Are you feeling better now?”

Arthur simply nodded, saying nothing as his attention was on the boy before them, who was looking away, face downcast and guilty, and as Arthur got closer, the boy tensed, as if expecting a physical blow.

Arthur bit his lip, but slowly knelt to Bailey’s height, placing a gentle smile on his face.

“I’m sorry, Bailey,” he whispered.

Bailey flinched, looking at him in surprise. “W-What for?” he asked.

“For running off like that.” Arthur looked to the ground. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“B-But I…” Bailey gulped tearfully. “I made you sad!”

“No! No, it wasn’t you, Bailey,” Arthur was quick to reassure. “It’s just...I never thought that I would experience that again.”

Bailey looked at him in confusion. “Huh?”

The painting ghosts looked to each other, sad expressions on their faces.

Arthur smiled sadly, the tears returning. “Before I came here, I had a friend who had three little sisters, ages ten to five. They were the sweetest little girls; loving, sweet, yet spicy depending on who you looked at. The youngest would sometimes make flower crowns for me when she found flowers that she thought fit me. Your actions...reminded me of her.”

Bailey’s eyes widened, and now he looked sad for a different reason. “What...happened to them?” he asked.

Arthur shook his head. “Nothing,” he admitted, “but no matter how much I wish it, I can never see them again.”

There was a long silence in the garden, with the sound of the water fountain, the stream, the bees, and the birds filling it. Then, Bailey spoke again.

“But why? Why can’t you see them again?”

Arthur didn’t answer. Instead, he only smiled sadly before standing up, taking Bailey’s hand in his.

“Come on,” he ushered gently. “Let’s play for a little bit longer, okay? Then we’ll go meet Mordred, my partner.”

Bailey could only stare up at Arthur in bewilderment, but thankfully he didn’t ask anymore questions as they returned to the garden, the painting ghosts not too far behind them.

After all, he wasn’t sure if he could handle anymore questions of that nature, no matter how much he wanted to say it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The paper flower: A perfect replica of real flowers, and just as beautiful and sacred in many cultures as real flowers. However, that is all they are; replicas that can never hope to live up to the real thing, and who are doomed to slowly die out while real flowers wilt with time and are reborn into something more beautiful. Such a sad existence...
> 
> Another late update. Someone punch me in the face please. However, I was having a hard time deciding how to go on with this without making it seem rushed and ridiculous, so I guess I have a good excuse for this?
> 
> Also, college classes are going to be starting for me the Monday after this next one, so please expect a hiatus on all my stories, especially since I will be working and attending classes, though I’m hoping to shorten my work days so I can focus on any work from classes.
> 
> Anyway, good news is that two more chapters will be updated simultaneously next time! Do you know what that means?
> 
> ...
> 
> _Well, let’s wait and see, shall we?___


	19. Devil's in the Backseat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School and work are really kicking my ass. I’m sorry that I took so long in updating this, but, again, college classes and working simultaneously has really been draining me, classes more so because my classes are expecting so much from me, probably a lot more compared to past semesters. I don’t know if it’s just me or if it really wasn’t a good idea for me to also work during the school year. Well, at least I’m making good grades (and I’m hoping it stays that way).
> 
> Anyway, as promised, here are two new updates, and Happy Halloween!

There she is.

Mordred was not sure why he was surprised to see her in this place, but he was. After all, it wasn’t unnatural for supernaturals to easily blend in with the human population when needed, and she was no different.

Still, he found himself caught off guard.

He almost didn’t think it was her. After all, she blended in quite easily with the humans around her, albeit in a way that would not draw negative attention to herself, and she was in a place that he did not expect her to be.

Not that he was any better, of course, but he certainly did not think that she would be in a place like this.

Dressed in a well-pressed suit and tie, sunglasses covering his eyes, and in his real appearance, the area that Mordred was meeting her in was a small café that appeared to be quite popular for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and was complete with a porch that contained tables and umbrellas over them to shield the patrons from the sun. Under one of them, near the railings of the balcony, was her, and she was calmly sipping from a cup, looking right at him as he grew closer.

Her tall posture had been replaced with a short stature, her blue skin had been replaced by pale white skin, her protruding canine tooth was nowhere to be seen, her white hair was now a light pink, and instead of the clothes and jewelry of her original form, she was wearing a white sundress, sandals, and even an elegant hat over her head that possessed a single cherry blossom flower.

Her pink eyes remained the same, as did her posture as she took him in, smiling slightly.

“Right on time,” she commented. “I’m pleased to see that you are punctual.”

He moved to sit in front of her, the seat making a sound against the hardwood floor of the porch. “I will have you know that I am not like most supernaturals. Regardless, I must say that I’m surprised you wanted to meet here,” he said. “I didn’t peg you as the one who would hide amongst humans.”

Being back in this town (‘her’ idea, and he didn’t want to return), sitting at a table located at this café, the woman was elegantly drinking tea from a pristine white cup, even sitting exactly like a noblewoman would. It was so perfect that the cafe’s other patrons and the staff members were staring over at her, asking each other questions as they had never seen her before.

Humans always drew attention to things that were different.

The woman glared at him. “Don’t insult me,” she ordered. “This is necessary, and I don’t want to be caught by your other half for the time being.”

“Ah,” nodded Mordred, “so that’s why. I see that you really have not changed your ways, have you?”

The woman didn’t react outwardly as she took another sip of her tea. “There is nothing to change,” she said. “You know what I must do.”

“But of course,” said Mordred. “How could I not?”

The woman looked like she wanted to roll her eyes, but she didn’t. “Yes. Yet, I fail to understand why you are delaying the inevitable,” she finished.

Mordred said nothing to that. After that, it was silent for a moment or two, until the woman scoffed in amusement.

“I must say, your care for your half is admirable and cute, but you did agree to help me in exchange for this mortal’s location. I hope you are not backing out now, otherwise we will become enemies, and I know that’s the last thing you want.”

“I have no care for my half,” Mordred calmly corrected, briefly clenching his fist underneath the table. “He is merely my other half, nothing more and nothing less.”

The woman raised an eyebrow over the rim of the teacup. “Quite an admirable liar, but you cannot fool me, spirit.”

Mordred didn’t respond to that, though he made sure to raise an eyebrow.

“Regardless, you did agree to get me what I want, and in return I will give you what you want. You don’t have a choice of backing out now, and you know it.”

“Well, what you fail to understand is the point that you came at the wrong time, monster,” Mordred shot back. “It’s not my fault that your timing is horrible.”

The woman shot up faster than the normal human could keep up with, but Mordred didn’t flinch. Instead, he kept smiling calmly, though if he still had a beating heart, it would have been pounding against his chest.

Meanwhile, the patrons and few servers in the area jumped, looking ready to jump in, but Mordred held up a hand. “Don’t worry, everyone,” he said, voice smooth and composed. “Everything’s under control.”

No one believed him, he knew, but none moved towards them, which was good. Seeing that the people were subdued for the time being, Mordred looked back to the woman, still smiling.

“I’m not sure what you are trying to do,” he said, “but I’m sure that you know you are treading on thin ice here.”

The woman raised an eyebrow. “And I’m afraid my patience is beginning to wear thin,” she growled, even with her smile. “You know what I have to do, and yet you are defying me.”

“Perhaps,” admitted Mordred, “but you know that I don’t have to give you what you want. After all, even if I were to give my half to you, he could easily evade you. He has not been given all these names by the mortals for nothing.”

“What makes you think that I want your half?” The woman’s expression was mocking as she looked at him. “Do not tell me that you have forgotten already?”

“Don’t be daft, monster,” Mordred shot back, smirking. “You lust for his soul, want to claim it for yourself. There is no supernatural who can resist him, not even I before he became my half. That is the price of being a part of the unseen world, especially an ancient creature.”

The woman said nothing to this, but her lips pursed.

“It’s why you came here, isn’t it?” Mordred continued smoothly. “You didn’t just come here just because you were searching for the mutt. You want to possess my half’s soul for yourself, want to consume it, because it is very rare for supernaturals to find such a soul. Souls like his are forbidden fruits that we want to have, diamonds in the rough that we wish to possess, flowers with the sweetest scents, the juiciest steaks. Not even you can resist that.”

The woman scoffed after a moment of silence, sitting back down and grabbing her teacup. “The Man of Lightning,” she mused to herself. “The Dancing Man. The Wanderer. The Hooded Man. Quite creative names the mortals have given him. I must say that I am disappointed.”

Mordred leaned back in his chair. “Well, you shouldn’t have expected anything else. Mortals will be mortals, and my half was mortal once.”

“Yes,” agreed the woman, “one who was quite weak if I remember correctly.”

Mordred raised an eyebrow. “Don’t try to deny it, monster,” he accused. “I was attracted to his soul too when he came to the cave I was trapped in. He and his little friends, as well as the mutt you are looking for.”

The woman’s hand tightened around the handle of her teacup, but she didn’t respond.

“Do not misunderstand, I don’t very much care what you do with the mutt or the mortals he’s bound himself to, but I’m afraid I can’t let you do too much harm here. That would mean the end of me too.”

The woman raised an eyebrow. “Do you think I care?”

“No,” Mordred answered. “I know you don’t. It simply isn’t in your nature. You don’t have time to care about such matters, but I’m sure you can agree that if something were to happen, you will lose your only lead, and I know that’s the last thing you want. Not only that, but even you do not stand a chance against several powerful ghosts residing in one place, nor do I think that the guests that come here will be too pleased with you if something were to happen to my half.”

The woman smirked in amusement as Mordred used her words against her, taking another sip of her tea. As she did this, Mordred noticed that she was holding onto the cup with white knuckles, and he had to keep himself from smirking in victory.

Once she pulled it away from her pink lips, the woman looked back at him. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say that you are threatening me, demon.”

Mordred resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Oh no, that was no threat. It was simply the truth. After all, I’m sure you have seen quite a few supernatural wars in your time, and it wasn’t too hard to figure it out when you showed me those visions of yours.”

The woman frowned.

“Besides,” Mordred continued, “you yourself admitted how elusive the mutt is. I’m sure you can be patient for a little while.”

The woman’s eyes blazed, and Mordred knew that if it wasn’t for their current location, she would’ve gladly attacked him then and there.

Perhaps this idea of hers would run in his favor after all. He will give her that.

Eventually, the woman relaxed. “I hope you know what you are asking, spirit,” she said. “I am not a patient creature, and I’m afraid I can’t wait forever.”

“I’m aware,” Mordred said with a nod. “But both you and the mutt have all the time in the world. I’m sure you can be patient for a while longer.”

“Don’t forget,” warned the woman, setting down her teacup, “I will be watching you very closely. Breathe one word of this to that half of yours, or any of the spirits under you, and I will be sure to wipe your existence off the face of the earth, and you can say goodbye to our deal. I don’t care what I have to do, and I will enjoy annihilating all of you to get what I want. Don’t forget that.”

Without another word, the woman stood up and walked off the patio, the people watching her go like the possessed mortals they were. After all, she walked gracefully, confidently, and with an ancient flexibility that no human could hope to accomplish in their lifetime. Mordred was able to taste the awe and slight envy in the humans’ auras, and had to keep himself from smirking at this.

Humans. They were so typical and disgusting creatures. He couldn’t believe that he had been among them once.

Eventually, footsteps began to walk towards Mordred.

“Um, excuse me, sir?” Looking up, Mordred saw a nervous-looking waiter looking at anything but him.

“What?” asked Mordred, raising an eyebrow. “I do not want anything, and, as you can see, she has left.”

“Y-Yes, I know,” said the waiter, “it...it’s just…”

“What?” demanded Mordred as his patience began to dwindle. ““Just what”, exactly?”

The waiter said nothing for an infuriating moment. “Are you...covering for her?” he finally asked.

Mordred blinked. “What are you talking about?” he asked.

“She...hasn’t paid, sir,” said the waiter. “S-So I figured...you would be covering for her.”

Mordred stared at the waiter for several long moments, wanting to roar with rage, break the weak human’s neck regardless of their audience, or just walk away, all of which he knew he couldn’t do.

He wanted to growl after the woman. _Damn you, you clever monster._

~~~

It was minutes later when Mordred faded his way into the mansion, fuming with anger as the servants immediately greeted him.

“Welcome home, Master Mordred,” said the servant ghosts, bowing elegantly to him. “Master Arthur is expecting you.”

Mordred raised an eyebrow, his anger clear as day, and automatically the servants shrunk, whimpering quietly to themselves.

“Does he now?” he asked lowly. “What could he possibly want now?”

“H-He wanted to see you i-immediately, Master Mordred,” said one of the servants, a maid ghost with short black hair, black skin, black eyes, and a maid dress that literally sparkled like the stars. However, at the moment, they were shining dimly. “I-It’s about the...young guest.”

The young guest, huh?

Mordred stared coldly at the maid. “Is that why you all are here, and not tending to your duties?” he asked, voice still low.

Another maid mumbled something under her breath fearfully.

**_“SPEAK UP!!”_**The servant ghosts squeaked fearfully, even flinching into different kinds of light, elements, or other supernatural phenomena that blurred their figures briefly before they regained their forms

“L-Lady Elizabeth is busy with the young guest, Master!” cried out the same sparkling maid. “L-L-Lords Joseph, Martin, and Antonio are also busy with Master Arthur, s-so they...they couldn’t be here to greet you right away. L-Lady Elizabeth even a-asked us t-to greet you in their...their stead!”

Mordred said nothing to this, but he grit his teeth, hard, and his fists were clenched tightly by his sides. Eventually, an eerie smile appeared on his face.

“Fine,” he said. “I will give Arthur what he wants. Return to your duties, I’m not in the mood to deal with anymore mistakes from you today, understand?”

“Y-Yes, Master Mordred.” With that, the servant ghosts immediately faded from the spot, leaving Mordred alone, finally. Mordred growled slightly before he faded to the door of the room that his half was located in.

Ah, the dining hall, huh? Not a room they used, but Arthur insisted on having this room.

Mordred moved closer to the door, with it opening by itself as usual, revealing the room within and the people who currently occupied it.

The dining room was large, large enough to fit many people at once, and the walls, floors, and ceiling were a pure gold, containing designs that were angelic in nature and literally glowed with the orange lights of the chandelier above them. The dining table was rectangular in shape and quite long, made of pure polished wood with powerful yet elegantly-shaped legs, the matching chairs with plush yellow seating and backrests, a large dark red carpet with gold trim was located underneath it all, and there were doors that led to the kitchens, which Mordred can hear the sound of pots, pans, spoons, forks, and other cooking utensils coming from.

But his eyes were on the group in front of him, mainly the Painting Ghosts and Arthur, who were sitting at the sides of the table far from where Mordred was, and at the head of the table across from him was a young boy, a child with dark features and wearing clothes that Mordred immediately associated with the work of Elizabeth’s seamstresses, and he was currently eating food made in the kitchen.

Mordred’s eyes widened as he recognized the food as wood-grilled petite maine lobster tails with a side of sea-salted french fries, a small bowl of applesauce, and even a small plate of sicilian pepperoni rolls on the side. There was even a glass of soda next to the child, which he drank happily as he did with eating the food.

Mordred briefly clenched his teeth at this as he forcefully restrained himself. A living body, eating food that smelled so delicious, drinking a beverage that he wanted to remember the taste of.

_He wanted…_

_He needed…_

_wanted..._

_needed..._

_HE NEEDED IT!_

Hearing him come in, the occupants immediately turned to him, the boy immediately ceasing his feast. Immediately, the Painting Ghosts stood up, bowing to him.

“Welcome back, Master Mordred,” greeted Elizabeth. “Please forgive us for not greeting you ourselves this time.”

Mordred’s smile was tight as he responded, walking closer to her. “It is fine,” he said, making his voice sound pleasant and _forgiving_. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

Elizabeth, Joseph, Martin, and Antonio almost looked relieved, but that was until he got close enough to them to whisper.

He snarled at him, away from the boy’s sight. “Don’t let it happen again,” he growled lowly. “I won’t be as forgiving next time, especially to the ghosts under you, Woman.”

Elizabeth exhaled shakily, her hands shaking in turn as she slowly nodded, the men following her example. Pulling away, Mordred saw Arthur looking at him disapprovingly.

_Let it go,_ his eyes said. _They are doing their best. Don’t hold this against them, or we will have more problems._

Mordred’s answer to that was a low scoff, causing Arthur’s jaw to tighten slightly, just as the former’s attention turned to the child.

“And who is this young man?” Mordred asked, his tone back to pleasant, eyes also going soft without his knowledge. “The new guest, perhaps?”

The child flinched, and Arthur’s face immediately relaxed at this, as he smiled warmly.

“Yes,” he answered before turning to the boy. “Why don’t you introduce yourself?”

Whether it was the fact that he had to answer a question directed at him or Arthur’s warm voice, the child spoke up, albeit shyly. “M-My name is Bailey,” he introduced. “N-Nice to meet you.”

Mordred nodded. “I am called Mordred,” he introduced. “It is nice to meet you, young Bailey.”

The boy blinked. “Mordred?” he asked. “Like the Mordred from the Arthurian legends?”

Mordred’s lips pursed, but Arthur’s glare on him forced him to relax. “A little,” he answered. “It is a name I have adopted long ago.”

“Why?” asked Bailey. “Isn’t it your real name?”

_No_, Mordred thought, but forced himself to answer. “It is now.”

The boy still looked confused, but before he could ask anymore questions, Arthur spoke up. “Why don’t you continue eating, Bailey? I need to talk to Mordred for a few minutes. Joseph, Martin, Antonio, Elizabeth, do you mind staying with him during that time?”

“Of course, Master,” said the Painting Ghosts, bowing, then moved to sit back down in their seats as they gently ushered for Bailey to continue eating his meal, which Bailey was more than eager to do. While they were doing that, Arthur had Mordred walk ahead of him towards the doors, which Mordred did as they walked out of the dining room, the doors slowly closing behind them.

Once the doors were closed, a bang echoed throughout the hallway as Mordred was forced against the wall by Arthur, who snarled at him as yellow electricity surrounded him and his human projection faded.

“What. Happened?!” demanded Arthur, voice echoing throughout the hallway and turning the hallway a dark and eerie yellow and orange as his blazing irises glared straight into Mordred’s own.

Mordred grunted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, unable to speak any higher from the position he was in.

“Don’t give me that!” spat Arthur, the electricity growing in intensity in response. “What the fuck did you do, Mordred?!”

Mordred said nothing, though for a moment fear slammed through him like the lightning bolts his half was giving off. How? How did he find out? He had been so careful! It couldn’t be possible! How?!

How did he find out of what he was doing?!

Mordred’s silence seemed to piss off Arthur more, so much so that he slammed his fist against Mordred’s face, causing the latter’s head to slam to the side of his shoulder. “What is wrong with you?!” Arthur then demanded. “What gives you the right to treat the servants like that?!”

“What?” Mordred could only stare at Arthur in disbelief.

Arthur snarled, well, as much as a floating jawless skull could manage. “That’s your answer? Oh, I know, you’re wondering how the hell I found out, didn’t you? Did you forget that we feel whatever is happening in this mansion, even the present feelings of the other residents?!”

Mordred said nothing.

“You always treat the servants indifferently, unless you are in a bad mood, or, hell, a good mood!” Arthur’s glare felt hot on Mordred. “What the fuck happened, Mordred?! What the hell are you doing?!”

“Nothing,” grunted Mordred, again unable to speak at the tone he wanted to. “I’m just in a bad mood today.”

““A bad mood”,” repeated Arthur. “And what exactly gives you the right to take it out on the people around you?!”

Mordred snarled back, his own human projection fading. Just as suddenly, Arthur was forced away from him, floating above the floor as an unknown force held him there. The electrical ghost yelled out in surprise at the suddenness of it all, and Mordred glared furiously at him in turn.

“You have no right!” shouted Mordred. “You have no right to tell me what I should or should not do! I suggest that you knock this off partner, because I can hurt you, and I will.”

Arthur growled, his entire form glowing with gold light, and just as suddenly Mordred was forced back against the wall himself, held into a position that was more unpleasant than the first. Mordred grunted, forcing him to release his half, and Arthur slowly floated to the floor, keeping his eyes on him.

“That’s right,” he hissed. “I don’t have the right to tell you what to do, but I do have the right to tell you why you should stop, especially when it concerns the safety of those who don’t deserve it. I am not going to let you destroy someone just because you felt like it! I’m not going to let you do that anymore!”

“What makes you think you can stop me?” Mordred demanded. “You, a weak, pathetic mortal who couldn’t even defend himself and hangs on to what he never had? You couldn’t even save yourself back then!”

“AND WHOSE FAULT IS THAT?!” Arthur cried, and suddenly Mordred’s eyes burned again with tears as the entire room was encased in a familiar shade of orange. “I NEVER ASKED FOR THIS! I NEVER ASKED FOR ANY OF THIS!”

“AND NEITHER DID I!” screamed back Mordred, hating that he was crying and unable to stop it. “DO YOU REALLY THINK YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE WHO SUFFERED?!”

“Master Arthur, Master Mordred!”

The sound of Joseph’s voice caused both ghosts’ heads to snap in The Judge’s direction, finding that the painting ghost was outside the dining room, glaring at them sternly. Immediately, both men deactivated their powers, staring at the other ghost without a word.

“Judge,” greeted Mordred, voice devoid of any emotion. “What are you doing out here?”

“Same reason you are, Master Mordred,” Joseph responded, his expression still stern. “What are you two doing? You are lucky that these walls are soundproof, otherwise you would have scared the child and given away our position!”

The child? Oh…

_Fuck_.

Joseph glared at each of them. “I don’t know what you two are arguing about, but I do not care at this time. If you scare the boy and give away our position, the fault will be yours.”

Neither Mordred or Arthur said a word. At least, not immediately.

“Is that why you came here?” Mordred then asked after a moment of silence. “To scold us?”

“I would not be here if it was anything else,” replied Joseph curtly. “You have, after all, frightened the ghosts under Elizabeth’s command, even though they were doing their duties as usual, and now both you and Master Arthur are close to scaring our guest as well. I do not know what you have been up to, Master Mordred, and while it is not of my business, I am not going to let any of you do anymore harm for today, do you understand?”

No one said a word to that, though The Judge seemed to take that as the answer he was looking for, so he looked at each of them.

“And Master Arthur, I know you did not call Master Mordred to argue with him about his treatment of Elizabeth’s maids. While I understand your anger, you mustn’t start another argument. That will destroy the point of you requesting Master Mordred's presence.”

While Arthur’s now present human face slumped, Mordred’s brows furrowed. What? What else could Arthur possibly want?

Arthur’s eyes went wide at this before a calm understanding replaced it a second later. He then turned to Mordred.

“Yes,” he admitted. “I need to talk to you, it’s about Bailey.”

“The child?” Mordred asked, eyebrow still raised. “What about him?”

Looking right into his eyes, Arthur’s golden irises began to glow brightly, causing Mordred’s green ones to do the same as Arthur showed him everything he learned.

The child’s story, where he came from, and Arthur’s plans with him.

Once they returned to the real world, Mordred looked at Arthur incredulously. “Do you really think that I would grant my protection to a child?” he asked. “A _mortal child_, no less? I have never been more insulted, partner.”

“He is not like other children, Mordred, and I know you know it,” Arthur countered. “As much as I hate to admit it.”

“You know that I will not stoop to your level,” said Mordred coldly. “Even if I were to grant the child my protection, he will only become a larger target, especially if he is being protected by us both.”

“No, he won’t.”

Mordred didn’t respond.

“Why do you think I’m talking to you about this, Mordred?” asked Arthur, almost with a hint of desperation. “Do you remember the promise we made long ago? You are a man of your word, something you like to brag about even now, so I know that you won’t break it down.”

Mordred grit his teeth at this, but otherwise didn’t say a word.

“I know you have seen it, Mordred,” continued Arthur. “That kid doesn’t deserve to live in fear, and I know that with the both of us, we can help him.”

Mordred wanted to snark something back, but he didn’t, strangely enough. What the hell happened? What was this human doing to him?

Instead of voicing those questions out loud, Mordred only sighed.

“You always would go so far for something so weak,” he commented.

Arthur smiled. “And I will do it without regrets. You know that too, Mordred.”

Mordred rolled his eyes. “Of course I know, do you really take me for an idiot, partner?”

Arthur simply smiled bigger. “I didn’t say that.”

Mordred’s brows furrowed. This mortal…

The sound of The Judge clearing this throat was heard. “Pardon me, Masters, but I think we should return to the dining hall. The boy is finishing up his meal.”

Both ghosts looked at Joseph, then at each other, and nodded.

“Of course,” said Arthur. He then turned to Mordred. “Mordred?”

Mordred rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, I’m coming.”

Arthur smiled again as all three of them went back to the dining hall, the sight of the abused boy talking happily to the other painting ghosts while the plates and cup before him lay empty greeting them first. As they saw the three men, Bailey waved at them, while The Woman, The Wrestler, and The Priest simply smiled at them warmly.

As Arthur went to speak with them, Mordred suddenly felt...wrong, a feeling he had not felt in centuries, but a feeling he knew he did not miss.

He felt...sick.

He didn’t want to understand why, but he did, and he hated it. He then looked into an uncertain distance, thinking.

_So, this is how you feel now, huh? _he mused. _I pity you, you foolish mortals. I truly pity you._


	20. Somewhere, You Are Out There

** _No, no, no, stop! Please, I beg of you!_ **

_She desperately wanted it to stop, _needed_ it to stop. It was too warm, too cold, too sticky, too revolting, too real._

_Too real._

_Too real. Too real. Too real. Too real. Too real. Too real. Too real. Too real. Too real. Too real._

_It couldn’t be!_

_Why was this--_

_What was--_

_Why was--_

_Oh god, this couldn’t be happening._

_this couldn’t be happening, this couldn’t be happening,_

_this couldn’t be happening, this couldn’t be happening, this couldn’t be happening, this couldn’t be happening, this couldn’t be happening, this couldn’t be happening, this couldn’t be happening, this couldn’t be happening,_

THIS. COULDN’T. BE. HAPPENING.

_There was so much red, so much yellow, so much orange, but the red was prominent, a color that should not be there. It was too repulsive, too horrid, too out of place, something that should not be there._

_Why did he—_

_What has he done?!_

_There was so much screaming, so much red, so much wrongness. Why?! Why did he do it?!_

** _What did they do wrong?!_ **

_Couldn’t save him. Tried to save him. The red covered everything, would not stop coming. Why won’t it stop?!_

_He was so cold, his skin so pale, his form so limp, and he shouldn’t be. This couldn’t be him! He would never do this to them!_

_He couldn’t!_

_Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up,_ ** _ wake up._ **

** _WAKE UP!!_ **

_So much screaming...so much pain...so much guilt...so much anguish..._

_And it didn’t all belong to her._

_Now it was cold. So cold. Where...where did all the orange and yellow go? Why was there so much red? What...what’s going on?_

_This couldn’t be right. This _can’t_ be right._

_Not happening. Not happening. Not happening. Not happening. _Not. Happening.

_…_

_…_

_Fix this. This needs to be fixed._

_Otherwise, how else would they find him again?_

_He was out there somewhere. They _needed_ to find him. They had to!_

_They just...they had to…_

_Otherwise, how would they be whole again?_

_~~~_

“Vivi, dear, are you sure you’re alright?”

Vivi looked up, seeing her mother looking through the doorway of her bedroom. The older woman’s face was set in a frown, worry clear as could be.

Vivi always hated seeing that look on her mother’s face; she didn’t deserve to have that look on her face, not someone such as her.

Vivi smiled either way. “I’m fine, Mom,” she said. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Mrs. Yukino didn’t respond at first. “I just had to ask,” she said.

Now, it was a struggle to keep the smile on her face. “What’s wrong, Mom?” she asked, frowning now. She couldn’t really stop it at this point. “Are you okay?”

“_I’m_ fine, dear,” said Mrs. Yukino, almost too quickly. “It’s just…” The older woman couldn’t finish, and she then proceeded to turn away from her daughter. “Never mind, forget that I ever said anything.”

“Mom--” But Mrs. Yukino had already closed Vivi’s door, leaving her alone in her room. Vivi stared at the now closed door, a little stunned at what just happened, and wondered what was wrong with her mother.

She shook her head. No, she knew what was wrong; it was something neither of her parents or her grandma had been subtle about these past several months.

And Vivi couldn’t blame them. She turned to Mystery, who was laying down on her bed, looking very somber. “Where _is_ he, Mystery?” she asked. “I’ve checked every missing person report there is, kept looking for any sign of him, and yet...there’s _nothing_! I don’t understand what’s going on, and it’s driving me crazy!”

Mystery only whined in response.

Vivi sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “_Of course_ you wouldn’t have any answers,” she said. “Why did I even bother asking?”

Mystery sighed. “Vivi…” he began.

“Don’t.” Vivi held up a hand. “I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry.”

Mystery didn’t respond.

It felt so long ago when the remnants of the Mystery Skulls discovered what Mystery really was. Of course, Lewis had been the one to find out first, and at first Vivi didn’t believe him (how could she, when they had bigger concerns on their hands?), until Mystery shifted into a seven-tailed kitsune right before her eyes to prove Lewis’ words correct. To further drive the fact home, he even spoke, and Vivi swore she lost several brain cells when that happened.

Now, normally, she would’ve been tripping over herself to take notes on Mystery, her dog who just revealed himself to be a kitsune, but, for once in her life, that thought never even crossed Vivi’s mind. Instead, she had felt hope as she realized that Mystery could have the answers they desperately needed.

But…

Mystery stood up on Vivi’s bed. “Vivi,” he began with a deep sigh, “you know that I have answered any questions you had as best I could, but I know that you know--”

“Enough.” Vivi snatched her purse from her desk, heading towards the door. “I’m heading for work. I’ll see you later.”

“Vivi--”

But Vivi had already begun walking down the hallway towards the front door of her family home, barely acknowledging her parents or grandmother as she slammed the door behind her and walked to the van, zooming out of the driveway as soon as she started it.

She didn’t want to hear Mystery’s lies. Not again. He couldn’t be right. He couldn’t be. She refused to believe it.

~~~

For the first time in a long while, work was tedious, the hours passing so slowly that it could probably be considered an eternity. Vivi couldn’t remember the last time it had been like that, and she knew that she didn’t like it.

Almost all the customers who came through the doors always gave her those sad, pitying, sympathetic looks, with a few even saying “I’m sorry for your loss”, “How are you doing?”, “Are you doing okay?”, “How is your boyfriend?”, or even “You know you have help whenever you need it, right?” They had been doing that for months now, and Vivi hated it, especially since her manager/boss, Duet, and even her teenage coworker, Chloe, were of no help.

Granted, Duet didn’t say much about it, but always gave Vivi a grim, sad look whenever they would look at her. Vivi didn’t know what was running through her boss’ mind, but whatever it was, she didn’t like it. Chloe, on the other hand, had been far more direct those first couple months, asking Vivi if she was okay.

Though, today, it was a little more forceful.

“Vivi, come on, you need to help yourself!” the green-loving girl said. “You’re not going to do yourself any favors if you keep doing this!”

Duet had given Chloe a hard look, but she paid them no mind.

Vivi looked at the younger girl with confusion. “I am,” she said. “Why are you asking that?”

“Don’t give me that, Vivi!” Chloe shouted. “You need to stop it!”

“Stop what?”

“You know what! Stop deluding yourself! You know as well as I do that Arthur’s gone, and he’s never coming back! Listen, I understand that it’s hard to accept, but you need to stop acting like he’s not dead! You’re hurting yourself, and it’s painful talking to you, much less looking at you, because you always bring it up even when you saw Arthur’s body being buried in the--”

A smack was heard throughout Tome Tomb, one which immediately silenced Chloe. Her head was off to the side, having hit her shoulder, her left cheek surely stinging terribly, and her eyes were wide with shock. In front of her, Vivi glared at her, tears burning her eyes and her lips pursed so tightly that they appeared to only be a single line around a pale area of her face.

“How dare you…” she growled at Chloe, who was now staring at her with shock, even a tinge of fear as she cradled her burning cheek. “You don’t know anything about Artie! You have always thought so low of him, didn’t you?!”

“I…” Chloe began shaking.

“Don’t be an idiot! I’ve always heard of how lowly you spoke of him! “He’s such a scaredy-cat!”, “He doesn’t deserve to be in the Mystery Skulls gang!”, “I could do so much better than him!”, or even “Why couldn’t he just die?!” Did you really think I wouldn’t hear it?!”

Chloe didn’t answer, but now tears were streaming down her cheeks. Vivi could only feel even more angry at the sight.

“Oh, so now you’re crying?!” she demanded. “You don’t care about Arthur, not like Lewis and I do, not like our families do! So what gives you the right to tell me what I should or shouldn’t believe?!”

“Vivi, that’s enough!” Duet finally stepped forward, grabbing her arm while glaring at her. “You’re going too far!”

“_I’m _going too far?” Vivi repeated in disbelief before pointing at Chloe. “Did you ever tell _her _that whenever she would make those horrible comments?! Oh wait, let me guess, you never have! You’re probably happy that Arthur’s missing, aren’t you?!”

Duet’s brow furrowed. “That’s not it,” they said. “What happened to Arthur is horrible, but you are going too far Viv—”

“Oh fuck off!” Vivi tore her arm from her boss’ grip, now glaring at them. “You never listened to me about this, so why will you now?!”

“Vivi—”

“Just leave me alone!” Without wasting another second, Vivi stormed away from Duet and Chloe, neither one moving to stop her. She immediately returned to work, making it her mission to avoid them both, which proved to be quite the challenge since Tome Tomb was not too big a building.

So, when it was finally time for her to clock out, Vivi nearly rushed out the door, barely even acknowledging her manager/boss and coworker as she rushed towards the van.

She knew she was going to regret yelling at Chloe and Duet like that, and even striking the young girl, but, at the moment, Vivi couldn’t bring herself to care. She was too angry.

Still, it shouldn’t have been a surprise to Duet and Chloe that she had been antsy for so long now that she was almost surprised that she hadn’t driven herself head first into something dangerous right about now. It had nearly been a year; a long, painful year, and there was still no sign of Arthur’s whereabouts.

It was like he disappeared off the face of the earth.

Not only that, but Lewis…

Vivi shivered as she thought to her boyfriend and how he handled their friend’s (and secret crush’s) disappearance. Even now, she was terrified, simply because Lewis was destroying himself from the inside out, and she didn’t know how to stop it.

And then, he tried to…

…

She clenched the steering wheel so hard that her knuckles turned white.

_No, don’t think about it. Do _not _go there._

Vivi did know how to fix all this, and she needed to find Arthur before things fell apart even more, before Lewis did something that he could never take back.

He was not dead. She knew it. Arthur may have been the most fragile person in their group (something that she shamefully ignored more than once), but he was tough and resilient when he needed to be. He was, after all, a mechanic, someone who knew how to defend himself when needed, and he always knew how to get himself out of situations that most people would give up in.

He couldn’t be dead. Vivi would not accept it. After all, his body had not been found, so there was no reason to assume that he was dead!

Even if the people around her told her otherwise, Lewis especially.

Grasping onto the steering wheel, Vivi frowned sorrowfully.

“Artie…” she whispered. “Please, please be okay.”

With that in mind, Vivi proceeded to drive to Pepper Paradiso, the restaurant of Lewis’ family. She had been doing that ever since Arthur went missing, and she needed to be next to Lewis, to see that he was doing alright, that he had not destroyed himself.

She couldn’t stand to lose both of her boys, only this time permanently.

Running on autopilot at this point, Vivi barely noticed when she arrived at the restaurant, but she did gain enough awareness to turn off the van, climb out, and head inside. Immediately, the scent of pepper and other kinds of spices and sweets hit her nose, but Vivi didn’t bother to inhale them like she normally would. No, she had stopped doing that a long time ago.

“Oh, Vivi!” Looking up, Vivi spotted Mr. Pepper, Lewis’ father, looking at her in surprise. He was in the midst of helping Mrs. Pepper clean up the restaurant after the last of the customers had left, and he smiled a smile that screamed of exhaustion, worry, and stress. “Welcome!”

Vivi smiled back as best she could, trying not to let her concern or earlier frustration show. “Hi, Mr. Pepper,” she greeted back before looking past the man’s shoulder. “And hi, Mrs. Pepper.”

Mrs. Pepper smiled back at Vivi, the gesture also exhausted and sad before she returned to finishing up the cleaning.

This time, Vivi could not stop her own concern from showing. “What’s wrong?” she asked, fear creeping into her voice. “W-Where’s Lewis?”

Both of the Pepper parents paused, looking to each other before mutely sighing, setting down their cleaning products, and turning to fully face Vivi.

“Lewis is…” Mr. Pepper hesitated, clearly contemplating whether to tell the truth or say something else.

“What?” Vivi asked, the fear growing worse. “Has he--?!”

“No! No, dear, he hasn’t, thank god,” Mr. Pepper was quick to reassure. “But...he’s getting worse, and we’re not sure what to do.”

Vivi felt her heart stop at this. “What...happened…?” she asked, hating how weak her voice sounded.

Both the husband and wife looked back to each other, a silent conversation passing between them before they nodded and turned back to her. “Lewis...” began Mr. Pepper. “His nightmares are getting worse, and he’s...he’s starting to hallucinate.”

“Hallucinate?” Vivi repeated, eyes widening. “What do you mean by “hallucinating”?”

“Exactly as I said,” Mr. Pepper replied grimly. “One morning, he told us that he thought he saw blood on his hands after a particularly horrible nightmare, and now, just this evening, he took a shower and thought that the water was replaced with blood.” Mr. Pepper ran a weary hand over his face, likely remembering his son’s screams or the entire scene as a whole. “It’s getting worse, and we’re still in the process of trying to find the proper help for him, but the last thing we want to do is send Lewis to a mental institution.”

Vivi bit her lip, understanding immediately. It didn’t take a genius to see that the Pepper family would be destroyed if that happened, not only for Lewis and his parents, but for his little sisters, who were already scared enough as it was by what was going on and what they feared would happen to their big brother, with Paprika even asking Vivi once if her big brother would “go to sleep forever like Tío Artie had.”

Even now, Vivi remembered feeling like she had been kicked in the gut upon hearing innocent little Paprika ask such a question.

“Where is he right now?” she then asked.

“Back home with the girls,” Mrs. Pepper answered. She then sighed. “He hasn’t done anything since that hallucination, but…”

Vivi nodded again. “I understand, I’ll go check on him.”

Lewis’ parents nodded thankfully. “Thank you, dear.”

Vivi gave the two adults a sad smile before she turned to leave.

“How are you holding up though?” Mr. Pepper’s question stopped Vivi short, and she turned back.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

Mr. Pepper paused, then sighed again before he continued. “About what happened to...to Arthur…” He bit his lip, a concerned expression on his face.

Vivi didn’t answer.

Mrs. Pepper picked up. “Vivi, you know we are here for you, right?” she asked, voice soft, so unlike her normally stern voice. “You don’t always have to play tough. Arthur was important to all of us, and we’re all hurt that he did what he did, but please...you don’t need to do this to yourself--”

“What are you talking about?” Vivi demanded. “Artie’s not dead. I know he isn’t. He would never do this to us!”

“Vivi--”

“He’s not dead!” Vivi shouted. “He is out there somewhere, lost, confused, and probably getting hurt! Don’t you dare tell me that he’s dead, he would never do that to us!”

“Vivi, please--”

“Stop it! He is not dead, you hear me?! He’s not dead!!” Vivi immediately stormed out of the restaurant, ignoring the calls of Lewis’ parents as she stormed towards the Pepper house, which was not too far from the restaurant itself. Tears burned her eyes, which she furiously swiped away as she stomped her way towards her destination.

How dare they…

How dare they immediately assume the worst in Arthur!

Vivi could not allow it, will not allow it. Arthur would not do that to them, she knew it!

She knew him better than that! Everyone should know him better than that!

Why was she the only one who thought that?!

In her seething anger, Vivi didn’t realize that she arrived at the front door of the Pepper house until she collided headfirst into it. Hissing out a curse, Vivi took a step back, rubbing the sore spot as she took in the house the Pepper family lived in.

It was a two story house that was quite big, and obviously it was needed considering how big the Pepper family was. It contained off-white brick walls, a maroon tiled roof, two windows that were present both on the bottom floor and the upper floor (of course, there were more, but they were on different parts of the house), a small patio that contained a small dining table able to fit about ten to eleven people, and a small porch swing.

There was also a small garden at the front of the house that contained different kinds of flowers and pepper plants, including several brut jolokia plants.

It was known throughout Tempo that the Peppers, and by extension the Pepper Paradiso, grew their own peppers, something that they took great pride in.

Though, from the looks of it, the plants had not been tended to in awhile, and Vivi was able to see that some brut jolokia peppers that were present on the plants had long since rotted.

She bit her lip at this before an idea came to mind.

Grabbing her purse, Vivi proceeded to walk over to the plants and proceeded to pick as many peppers as she could (the ones that were still fresh of course) and put them in her purse until it couldn’t carry anymore.

Maybe she could ask the Peppers to help her learn how to make Lewis’ favorite food. She knew it would mean a lot to her boyfriend, but…

_No, don’t even think about that, Yukino,_ she scolded herself. _That will not happen. You _won’t_ let it happen._

Upon seeing that her purse couldn’t carry anymore, Vivi walked back up to the front door, pressing the doorbell button on the side. She was able to hear the dinging from the inside as she stood there and waited.

Usually, she would hear the sound of footsteps rapidly running to the door to answer it, but lately, that had become less and less frequent. Vivi waited for several seconds before she rang the doorbell again, and once again she didn’t get a reply.

Well, not an instant one. Just as Vivi was going to try forcing herself in, the sound of the door unlocking was heard before it opened, revealing the disheveled, defeated form of Lewis Pepper.

Vivi nearly flinched at the sight of her boyfriend; his hair was a mess, he (somehow) looked skinnier than the last time she saw him (which was yesterday!), there were pitch black bags under his eyes, his tan skin was replaced with an unhealthy white, and he looked ready to collapse upon himself, both literally and figuratively.

Not only that, but he didn’t smile upon seeing her, which was starting to become a normal occurrence. “Hey, Vivi,” Lewis greeted, his voice showing how tired, how _defeated_, he was. Once again, Vivi had to keep herself from flinching. “Is everything okay?”

Vivi so desperately wanted to scream, _“I was going to ask you that!”_, but painfully restrained the urge before forcing out her next words. “I’m fine, Lewis,” she said. “I just wanted to check up on you.”

This time, Lewis smiled, but it was bitter, self-deprecating, even. “I’m doing fine, mi amour. I’m just tired is all.”

_NO YOU’RE NOT! _Once again, Vivi had to keep that thought from voicing itself, which was, again, very painful. “Have you eaten?” she asked instead, glaring at her boyfriend disapprovingly before holding up the brut jolokia peppers she collected. “I’ve picked some of these for you in case you wanted some.”

Lewis looked away guiltily at the first part, telling Vivi all she needed to know. She then stomped into the house, ignoring Lewis’ squawk of surprise. “Alright, that’s it,” she said. “You, me, kitchen. Now.”

“Huh?” Lewis looked at Vivi, dumbfounded. “Vivi, what are you--”

“Kitchen,” Vivi repeated, pointing in that direction. “Now.”

As her tone was not leaving any room for argument (or the fact that Lewis knew he would not be able to change her mind no matter what he said), Lewis slumped a little and walked into the kitchen, Vivi not too far behind him. Once they arrived, he immediately slumped into one of the seats at the kitchen table, and Vivi went towards the stove.

She knew that she wasn’t the best cook. Hell, Vivi could admit that Lewlew and Artie were right about one thing: she couldn’t cook to save herself, except if it was her favorite food, Okonomiyaki, though even she couldn’t understand how she managed it. Still, Vivi liked to admit that, when needed, she can cook a decent meal, regardless of her boys’ protests.

So, placing her purse full of brut jolokia peppers on the counter, Vivi got started on Lewis’ favorite food, trying to be as careful as she could so that she wouldn’t mess it up. Granted, she did know the recipe by heart, especially since Lewis would make it all the time in the past whenever she and Artie were around, but, somehow, whenever she would try to make it herself, she still would somehow mess it up.

Hence, she was going slow and being extra careful while preparing it.

“Vivi,” Lewis began, voice soft. “You really don’t have to do this for me.”

“Oh, hush, you big baby,” scolded Vivi. “Why do you think I’m doing this?”

Lewis said nothing at first. “I know that, but—”

“No ‘buts’!” Vivi even glared at Lewis over her shoulder. “I don’t wanna hear that out of you, you hear me?”

Lewis didn’t reply to that, and instead slumped over the table, resigned to his fate.

With a smirk of triumph, Vivi continued with the meal, once again being as careful as she could be with preparing it. Eventually, she was done mixing the ingredients together, and the oven was at the right temperature, so, after placing the dish in the oven, Vivi made sure that she put in t the right time before pressing the start button, allowing the clock the oven had to start ticking down the seconds and minutes to wait.

Once that started, Vivi turned back to Lewis and sat down in the seat beside him, taking his hand in hers.

Lewis gripped her hand back, and for a minute, neither said a word, though Vivi soon broke that silence.

“Mr. and Mrs. Pepper told me what’s going on,” she said.

Lewis said nothing to this, though his grip did tighten involuntarily.

Vivi looked to her boyfriend, biting her lip. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked. “Lewis, you know that Artie is not--”

“Because I didn’t want to worry you enough than you already were,” Lewis interrupted, not even looking at her. “Vivi, you already have enough on your plate. I don’t want to add to it.”

“What?” Now Vivi felt irritation bubble in her chest. “Lewis Pepper, I have every right to worry about you. You’re my boyfriend for god’s sake!”

“I know that!” Lewis cried. “But...Vivi, you have been working yourself to the bone trying to find Arthur, and worrying about me will not do you any good!”

“And we will find him!” Vivi argued back, tears burning her eyes. “We will fix this once we find Arthur, and we _will_ right the wrongs we committed against him! I promise you that, but I would appreciate it if you would take care of yourself too! Artie wouldn’t want this!”

“You don’t know that!” Lewis cried again, and tears were now streaming down the purple-haired man’s face like rivers. “Don’t you get it?! It’s because of me that Arthur’s--that’s he’s--” He couldn’t finish.

“He’s what?” Vivi pressed, her own eyes burning with unshed tears. “He’s what, Lewis?”

Lewis bit his lip, and Vivi wasn’t sure if it was because he was trying to hold back more tears or because he didn’t want to finish his sentence. She wouldn’t be surprised if it was both.

“Lewlew, you know that Arthur is not dead. He can’t be! He would never do this to us, you know that as well as I do!”

“People change, Vivi!” Lewis argued. “Especially when the ones who were supposed to cherish them and not be afraid to admit it hurt them over and over! Don’t you remember that?! We were so, so selfish! We allowed him to get hurt for our own fucking entertainment, and we never once showed him that we cherished our friendship with him, cherished _him_, when we began dating! We made him feel like he never mattered to us! You can’t tell me that people can’t change from that!”

Vivi recoiled, like she had just been slapped, hard, across the face. By then, the tears escaped her control, and any argument she had been about to use died in her throat.

She hated to admit it, but Lewis was right. They _had_ hurt Artie, hurt him in so many ways that it made her sick. Artie had always been vulnerable to the supernatural, to the monsters who hunted people like him for their sick games, but even with knowing that, Vivi had dismissed his concerns about the obvious dangers and risked his _life_ over and over again for her own fun and amusement, just as Lewis said, with it being only the stroke of luck that they were able to save him at the last second.

Even now, Vivi shuddered to think of what would’ve happened had they arrived too late.

But, even with that, they kept doing it, over and over and over and over again, and not for the first time, Vivi suddenly wished that Arthur reprimanded them for it; screamed at them, hit them, said _something_, but he never did. Instead, he only expressed gratefulness and relief that they managed to get to him on time, every time.

Oh god, Vivi should’ve seen it sooner, and it didn’t matter that she and Lewis were so focused on the newness of their relationship. The signs were _right there_! How could she have been so blind?!

Vivi couldn’t remember a time after she and Lewis started dating of ever involving Arthur, and it made her feel even more disgusted with herself. She hated how it took her and Lewis so long to just notice how, whenever they were in the same place with Arthur, they would talk over him like he was never there, that they would never think about him.

And then, one day, they just...noticed.

It had been a day like any other; Vivi and Lewis meeting up for another date, going out to eat, Lewis serenading a blushing Vivi, and her eventually joining in. They sang and danced together, unable to keep their hands off each other. They were laughing so much that they opened their arms out to the side.

_“Come on, Artie!” _Vivi had called. _“Don’t leave us hanging, you--”_

It was at that moment that they realized that Arthur was nowhere to be found. With that, they had immediately stopped singing, stopped dancing, and pulled away from each other, confused and concerned. Where was Arthur? Where did he go? How long had he been--

Hold on...where _had_ Arthur been all this time? Ever since they started dating, where had Arthur been? How had they not noticed? Why did they—

...hold on...

H...How long had they...let this happen?

Vivi still remembered the horror that set in at that point, when she and Lewis looked at each other with that growing dread that only got worse as the silence went on.

When did...when did Arthur leave them…? Why did they...how had they…

...what have they done to them, to each other? What did they do to “us”? Was there even an “us” to begin with? Why did they do this…?

It was then that the crushing realization set in, and Vivi remembered collapsing to her knees as the tears came hard, while Lewis stood there, just as stricken, but a lot more silent in his tears.

That day...it forced the both of them to take a good hard look at their feelings for Arthur. Being there, just the two of them, felt so wrong, even with how much they loved each other. Arthur not being there with them...it hurt, and it scared Vivi and Lewis.

But what scared them more was the knowledge of how quickly they had destroyed their bond with Arthur, and it was then that they came to this additional realization; life without Arthur would be unbearable for them both, and losing him forever was a terrifying thought that they did not want to dwell on.

They had to fix this, whatever it took.

They also knew then that they both loved Arthur, more than a friend, more than family, and they both knew that they wanted him to join them in their relationship, hoping that he would accept. It didn’t feel right, loving each other but not being whole. It felt so...wrong.

So Vivi and Lewis made plans; on their next case, they would finally confess to Artie, hoping beyond all else that he would say yes. Then they would go on a proper date, and they had even arranged the date to be at a nearby popular resort, which had two different swimming pools (inside and outside), a water slide, a sauna, two different hot tubs, an arcade, a bar, and really, really nice rooms and cabins.

But then...then…something went horribly wrong on the case, and Artie disappeared without a trace.

And Lewis...Lewis and basically everyone else were telling Vivi that he _died_, that he had thrown himself from the cliff he and Lewis were on, never once making a sound throughout, and she had been there to witness him land and die right in front of her.

He had...committed suicide, the pain of them destroying his self-worth too much for him to bear. They had driven him to the point of no return, and there was no taking it back, no hope of fixing what they had destroyed. They made him feel like an afterthought, that _his own existence_ didn’t matter to them anymore; therefore death was his only escape from that pain.

After that, and as told by various doctors and therapists, Vivi had erased her own memory of Arthur’s death and instead believed that he was only missing in order to cope with the traumatic memory and the fact that she had failed him in so many ways, that she and Lewis had been the ones to drive him to that point, that she couldn’t save him, that they had been _too late_.

…

_So much gold_…

_Where was all that gold coming from?_

_There was too much of it…_

_Too much…_

…

…

…

No.

No, that couldn’t be right. It could never be right.

Even after everything they had done, Arthur would never do that to them, it just wasn’t in his nature! She knew it! Surely Lewis knew it too!

“We’ll find him, Lewis,” Vivi then said, trying to smile reassuringly. “And then, we will make things right with him. We will fix what we did.”

“It’s too late for that, Vivi,” Lewis whispered brokenly. “When will you stop denying what happened?”

“I’m not denying anything!” Vivi nearly yelled. “I’m only saying that we’ll fix things once we find him and bring him home!”

“He’s already home, Vivi!” Lewis yelled, glaring at her with tearful eyes. “And he is in the cemetery, rotting in the ground because of what we did!”

“How could you say that?!” demanded Vivi. “You know as well as I do that Artie would never do this to us, not willingly!”

“You--”

A whimper was heard, a child’s whimper, and both Lewis and Vivi froze when they heard it. Vivi even felt her heart freeze as she slowly looked to the doorway of the kitchen, as did Lewis.

There, barely hidden by the doorway, were a familiar trio of girls. The oldest was covering the youngest’s ears while her eyes were squeezed shut, and the middle child had her hands over her mouth, her shoulders shaking as she desperately tried not to cry.

Both Vivi and Lewis stared in horror. How long...how long had they been there?

“O-Oh god, Belle, Cayenne, Paprika,” Vivi whispered, slowly standing up. “W-We’re so sorry!”

The girls whimpered, even though Paprika’s ears were covered. They were now looking at Vivi and Lewis with expressions that made Vivi’s heart break.

They looked...scared, upset, and even a little angry, but the latter was faintly there and seemed to be directed at…

Not only that, but Belle looked like she was desperately trying not to cry, whether out of pride or for her sisters’ sake, Vivi couldn’t tell.

Lewis stood up now, slowly walking to his sisters. “You shouldn’t have heard that,” he whispered. “Mi hermanas precioso, lo siento mucho.”

When he went to embrace them, all three of the girls flinched away, unable to look their brother in the face. Immediately Lewis froze, his mouth partly open with clear hurt and shock, but then an eerie understanding and emotionless despair appeared on his face, and he slowly stood back up.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. He then turned to Vivi. “I’m going to head back to the restaurant. Mama and Papa might need some help.”

Before Vivi could say anything, Lewis walked out the front door, not looking back, and somehow the sight of the door slowly closing after him hurt.

She couldn’t understand why, and yet she could.

Looking back to the girls, Vivi saw that all three of them were looking at the door their brother exited out of, hurt and guilty expressions on their faces. Then they looked up at Vivi, their expressions causing her to look away in her own kind of guilt.

After a few moments of silence, she quietly spoke. “I’ll...call your parents about your brother. After that, I’ll leave you alone. I’m sorry for what happened.” She then grabbed her phone, called Mr. and Mrs. Pepper about the situation, and then moved to leave before anyone could say anything, tears slowly moving down her face with her now empty purse in hand.

“Vi?” Upon hearing Belle’s weak voice, Vivi immediately turned back, seeing the purple-haired little girl and her sisters looking at her with teary eyes. “Did we...do something wrong?”

It hurt Vivi, seeing those expressions on the sisters’ faces. They shouldn’t be there at all, she thought. It didn’t suit them at all, they didn’t deserve this.

Turning back, Vivi slowly approached the girls, pasting what she hoped was a reassuring smile on her face before kneeling to the girls’ height level. “No,” she whispered, hoping that it sounded reassuring. “None of you did anything wrong. Don’t you ever think that.”

“But…” This time it was Cayenne who spoke. “But why are you and Lewlew hurting each other?”

Vivi froze at that. She felt bewildered, speechless, and even hurt at the redhead’s question, and she wasn’t sure how to answer.

She hated that sometimes, that kids always seemed to ask the most painful questions.

Eventually, after a few moments of painful silence, Vivi shook her head. “Don’t worry about it, okay?” she whispered again. “Your brother and I will figure it out. We just...need some time.”

Neither of the girls said anything at first, then Belle looked at her. “Tío Artie wouldn’t want you to hurt each other,” she said somberly.

Vivi smiled sadly. “I know…and we’re not. I promise.”

Neither of the girls believed her, she knew, but she didn’t want to stay to hear them voice that. It wasn’t like she could say anything else after that, because she would break down into tears, something the girls did not need to see; so she turned to leave, leaving the girls alone in their house.

Soon she was in the van and driving home, wishing for this horrible day to be over.

She never heard the oven finally go off, or the fact that, once the brut jolokia special was brought out, it was delicious to those who ate it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Denial is a natural part of the grieving process, and so is anger, depression, and yearning. However, something is not quite right about Vivi’s denial over Arthur’s death. I’m sure you would agree if you hadn’t already. But now, it’s clear that it’s tearing both Lewis and Vivi apart in more ways than one, and a certain ghost is the only one who can stop it.
> 
> The inspiration for this chapter’s name is from Within Temptation’s “Somewhere”, which I thought fit Vivi’s feelings about the situation and her inability to cope perfectly. I swear that band really knows when to make some of their songs hit close to home, but that’s why they are one of my favorite bands.


	21. A Born Coward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The semester has finally come to an end for me, so hopefully I will be able to update a little more. No promises though, but you can bet that I will be doing my absolute best to make sure that I update more before my last semester of college starts.

_So warm._

_Where was it coming from?_

_Arthur knew this warmth, and it was moving, holding him tightly but gently against something strong yet soft. He knew he was limp, unable to make any major movements (oh, what the hell, Kingsmen? You just woke up for fuck’s sake!), but he tried to open his eyes all the same._

_The first thing that greeted his tired eyes was the color purple (or was it pink?). Regardless, Arthur found himself staring at the color for a few minutes before realizing there were other colors. A thick line of blue was in his sight, slung over one part of the purple and partially over him, and there was a blur of white and patches of red on his chest._

_He could only stare, unable to understand at first._

_“Artie?” a voice, soft, loving, and baritone, called softly. “Are you awake?”_

_For some reason, Arthur’s eyes began to burn, and the white and red blur on him whimpered, moving towards his face to lick him._

_He couldn’t stop crying._

_“I’m sorry…” he whispered._

_There was a brief silence._

_“For what, Artie?” This time it was a feminine voice, so quiet and gentle._

_This made him cry more._

_“For...for ****** ***.”_

_What? What did he…?_

_What did he just say?_

_That wasn’t right. He was sure that he didn’t say anything. What was...what was going on?_

_The figure holding him stopped walking, and soon it felt like they were nothing more but statues given human form. Arthur could only stare up at them, confused._

_“Lewis…? Vivi…? Why...did you stop?”_

_None of them answered him, but now everything felt so...wrong._

_What...what happened to their faces? Why were they...unrecognizable?_

_Arthur realized that he couldn’t move, and that his surroundings had suddenly gone dark until all he could see was black. Not only that, but even with his weakened state, the faces of the people and dog before him began to blur so much that they seemed to become blank, faceless even._

_Suddenly Arthur felt scared, and he couldn’t move to get away._

_It was starting to get cold, even though it had been pleasantly warm not even a second ago._

_He didn’t know where he was anymore, and even as the exhaustion began to fade, he still couldn’t move, no matter how much he willed it. The creature that had once been a familiar and comforting purple was now a blur of pinks, purples, blues, reds, blacks, white, and so many other colors that had no form or faces._

_All in all, it felt wrong, suppressive, _hostile_._

_And here he was, still being held by this thing._

_He couldn’t scream, for his voice was suddenly gone, and still he couldn’t move. Well, his eyes could move, but that was about it._

_Arthur wanted to run, to escape, to _get the hell away from this thing_, but despite those pleas, his body still would not obey him. It was like it wasn’t even his anymore._

_It was a feeling he was too familiar with, and he hated it._

_Not again._

_He didn’t want to go through that again._

_Please, not again._

_I don’t want this. Please, I beg of you._

_Stop._

_Just stop._

_Just let me go._

_I just want to go _home_._

_Hold on, Arthur could hear something now. The wind, maybe? No, it’s getting louder now, and he did not feel something brush over him like wind would._

_Where those...whispers?_

_H...Holy shit, they were so loud. Arthur could hear them everywhere, sometimes on one side, other times another, and the rest of the time just everywhere. He couldn’t move to cover his ears, but he doubted that it would’ve mattered. It felt like it was in his head now, and it was getting louder, louder, louder, _louder, louder, LOUDER, LOUDER, **LOUDER.**

_PLEASE. PLEASE STOP._

_I JUST WANT TO GO HOME._

_PLEASE STOP HURTING ME._

_GO AWAY._ _   
_ _   
_ _GO AWAY, PLEASE, I BEG OF YOU._

_Suddenly, the voices were gone, and...so were the colors, and it took Arthur a moment to realize that nothing was holding him anymore, that wind was brushing past him quickly as he felt his heart shoot up into his throat._

_He was falling._

_There was only black, but it was starting to shift colors, so fast that his eyes began to hurt, and even when he opened his mouth to scream, no sound came forth._

_The noises were back, only…_

_They were s c r e a m i n g ._

_Stop it._

_Stop it._

** _PLEASE STOP!_ **

_Even though he no longer had the power, Arthur found himself finally screaming as he heard the sound of flesh, bone, and muscle being ripped apart as pain filled his entire body._

_Now, only red greeted his vision, and _pain_._

_It hurts…_

_Please, stop…_

_It hurts so much…_

_Please…_

_Stop...it…_

_…_

_L...E...W...I...S_

_V...I...V...I_

P...l...e...a...s...e...m...a...k...e...i...t...s...t...o...p…

** _p...l...e...a...s...e_ **

_..._

_Don’t...leave me here…_

_Please…_

_Please!_

** _PLEASE!_ **

~~~

“HELP ME!”

Arthur gasped as he shot up from the bed, his electrical hair immediately booming to life with violent sparks, causing the shards of light in the room to also spark violently and shift between so many different eerie shades of gold, yellow, and orange.

Panting hard and blinking in confusion, Arthur looked around him, seeing orange satin sheets, the large bed, and the familiar appearance of his room. He then slumped over himself.

Running a hand over his face in exhaustion, Arthur stared at the bedsheets, watching as the now “calm” shards of light moved light over them. “A dream…?” he asked himself weakly. He then shook his head.

No…

No, it couldn’t have been.

It was so real. He had felt that warmth clearly, felt how tired he was, how weak he was. That was no dream.

Arthur pulled the hand away from his face. “A memory…” he then mused.

Yes, a memory, a memory that felt so long ago, but one that was still clear to him obviously. He had...he had been captured by another cult again, had been about to be sacrificed to that cult’s deity, but before that knife could pierce his flesh, he fell unconscious. He wasn’t sure what happened after that, but he did know this.

Lewis and Vivi...they had come for him. They saved him again.

He woke up some time after they got him out of that place, Lewis holding him like a princess, Vivi hanging onto his shoulders, and Mystery laying on his chest, whimpering with concern. He remembered them being relieved when he regained consciousness, though Arthur could still remember the exhaustion and pure weakness he felt as he woke up.

Even then, he knew that Lewis and Vivi didn’t say anything to him, knowing that he was too weak to speak.

So why? Why did that dream say otherwise? Not only that, but why did it show him all that? Why had there been so much pain?

Why was that place there?

A peep was heard beside him, and Arthur looked up to see all of his electrobeats out, their comical faces filled with the usual concern. He smiled weakly, knowing that he was silently crying again.

“I’m okay…” he whispered. “It was just a bad dream.”

None of the little ghosts made a sound, though they all lowered himself onto the bed next to him. It was then that Arthur realized something when he looked out the window.

The full moon shone through, lighting up his room and making the light shards reflect it more as shades of white and blue went through the room, sometimes making the gold colors of the shards become more prominent. Arthur sighed.

How convenient.

Slowly, he got up from the bed and looked at his electrobeats. “I might as well go outside,” he said. “I can’t go back to sleep after that.”

Again, he didn’t need to sleep, but still, old habits (and necessary ones) die hard.

The electrobeats chirped quietly, not bothering to return to Arthur’s anchor as both they and Arthur proceeded to fade from the room, a single destination in the latter’s mind.

Immediately, they were in the ballroom, now so large a room with only one person in it. It almost seemed pointless that a room this big only had one person in it, but Arthur stopped acknowledging that thought a long time ago.

Reaching the middle of the ballroom floor, the now darkened room was lit up slightly with warm oranges as the candleholders nearby lit up with the matching colored fire. The electrobeats added more light, albeit not very much, but Arthur knew that wasn’t the only reason they were out here with him.

Almost immediately, the little ghosts moved across the room, moving slowly and with purpose as shards of light were left behind in their trail. Arthur immediately understood what they were doing when he saw this, and he took a deep breath, moving into a certain position.

It suddenly felt so long since he did this alone, even though a few months had now passed since the kid came to stay with them.

Surprisingly, Mordred allowed Bailey to stay for as long as he wanted. Of course, many of the resident ghosts, including Arthur, were confused about his choice, but Mordred refused to give any reason behind his decision, ordering them all to leave it be. Arthur knew they were all still confused, but (to the other resident ghosts anyway), whatever Mordred says goes, so it was for the best that they not question it.

Though, Arthur doubted that many of them were bothered by Bailey staying here. In fact, he had never seen many of the servants look so eager to entertain the kid, whether through food, music, dancing, or just allowing him free reign of the front half of the house. Arthur liked to think that Bailey still did not know about what they really were, even though the kid didn’t ask any questions about their strange appearances or capabilities.

Arthur wasn’t sure if he was relieved by that or not.

Either way, Arthur opened his briefly closed eyes when he heard piano music start playing, and he looked upwards to see that one of the electrobeats was playing a miniature piano while the others were performing their own kind of dance in the air, the trails of light going throughout the room and gliding to the floor like snow. Arthur sighed at this, mutely crying again, as he too began to dance to the piano’s soft, beautiful, yet melancholic tune.

He moved slowly yet fluidly, his motions barely a sound as he moved about the ballroom floor. With all this free space, it was easier to navigate and be free to do what he wished, and he could only be thankful for that. There was no one watching him (well, except the electrobeats), it was a time when everyone would probably be regaining energy or sleeping depending on the resident, and with there being no one in the room, the music felt like Arthur’s only companion, something which offered a hand for him to dance with, and which he gladly accepted.

Moving throughout the dance floor, Arthur would often go to the floor, move himself into positions that would resemble a dancer who sought to be alone in this moment, and would sometimes allow the electrobeats to grab his fingers, lift him up onto his feet, spin him around, and even to dip him. One would probably think that little ghosts like them wouldn’t be capable of doing that, but Arthur had long since stopped doubting their capabilities.

Eventually, as the piano continued playing, Arthur was left alone on the dance floor again, and he continued dancing by himself, allowing shards of light to emerge from his being and fill up the entire room, shining yellow, gold, orange, and even white as he continued to dance, uncaring. With there being no light in the room besides the electrobeats and himself (the candles having gone out at his request), the light shards proved to be quite useful and a beautiful companion with the music, and depending on the note playing, the shards would change color and shade, shining brightly whenever a strong note was played and going soft whenever a gentle note was played.

As the piano’s tune got stronger, Arthur used that moment to become more intense in his dance moves, spinning about on the floor, jumping into the air to merely land on one foot, or two, or even to land on the floor and continue his dance there. All the while, he kept his eyes closed, not seeing the need to open them for this moment, and he continued to move about the room elegantly and powerfully, especially as a beat came to the song, as well as a guitar (or was it a harp?), causing him to move more ferociously than before.

Moving his arms and legs this way and that, allowing himself to fall to the floor or float into the air, the latter of which he adopted for the time being as he spun around, dipped himself, stretched, and even allowed any electrobeat to guide him whenever the appropriate time arrived, there were now far more light shards in the room than them, and they proceeded to shine into different shades at a quicker rate, all of which Arthur did not pay much attention to.

Still, he had to admit that it was beautiful and quite fitting.

Arthur proceeded to dance, once again closing his eyes, and sometimes, almost like a man possessed, he would arch back until it looked like he would flip over, but then he would right himself before continuing on. Then, he would switch his dance style, and even though the music itself had not changed, he continued on smoothly without any sign of interruption in his body language. He began to leap into the air, would position himself into balanced positions that either had to go on fast or slow, and would even dance like he was awaiting a partner to join him, which he knew no one would.

Eventually, Arthur opened his eyes, not looking upwards to the top of the staircase, but he didn’t need to.

He didn’t know when he got in here, but he doubted that it mattered. He didn’t bother to stop him, and was instead merely watching him from the balcony that their thrones would be located on, though, at this time, they were nowhere to be seen. Either way, Arthur ignored him in favor of his dancing.

And thankfully, the electrobeats didn’t let up the music they were creating or their own dance either. They continued to play without missing a beat, and their spiritual type of dance remained uninterrupted. Arthur also continued with his own dance, pretending that he didn’t have an audience as he continued to move about the room.

Eventually, the music slowly began to come to a close, and, with his eyes still closed, Arthur began to slow down as well, until all that was left was him standing with his left foot across from his right, and his arms held out to the side as he tucked his chin against his chest.

Eventually, the music was gone, and one by one the lights began to fade until there was nothing left, leaving the room as dark as it had been when they appeared.

Arthur kept his eyes closed for a couple more seconds in the silence before opening them and looking up to the staircase, where familiar glowing green eyes looked back at him.

Arthur nodded up to him. “Hello Mordred,” he greeted. “Strange to see you here.”

Mordred scoffed in amusement. “I could say the same for you,” he replied. “Usually you are in your room, partaking in a human habit.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes. “You know that necessary habits are not easy to get rid of after you die, Mordred,” he said as the electrobeats immediately went behind him or back into his anchor, their instruments disappearing in the process. “Besides, I think that, when needed and there’s nothing to do, sleep is a good way to pass the time.”

Mordred chuckled, just as he jumped from the balcony and floated towards the ballroom floor towards Arthur. Once he found his footing, he crossed his arms.

“Then why are you here?” he then asked. “I doubt it’s because you suddenly had the need to dance.”

Arthur shrugged. “You wouldn’t care even if I told you, Mordred,” he reminded.

Mordred shrugged. “Yes, I wouldn’t,” he agreed. “But you have to admit that I am curious, just as you are curious as to why I’m here.”

Arthur pursed his lips before sighing. There was no point anyway. “Ghosts can still have nightmares,” he then said.

Mordred said nothing, and the only reaction Arthur got was a raised eyebrow.

Regardless, he went on. “It was a pretty bad one too, and I couldn’t go back to sleep after that, and that is why I’m here.”

“Was it about those mortals you call friends?” Mordred suddenly asked.

Arthur didn’t answer.

At this, Mordred sighed. “I am getting tired of repeating myself, partner, but you need to stop dwelling on them. It has now been over a year, and yet here you are, clinging to them. I hate to break it to you, but where were they when you were hurting? Where were they when you needed them most? Most of all, why did they allow you to get hurt over and over again? If they really did care about you, why did they constantly risk your safety?”

Once again, Arthur didn’t answer, but now his lips were pursed as the tears returned, thick and never ending.

“It would do you well to remember that they were never your friends. If they did care about you, they wouldn’t have endangered your life so much, nor would they have ignored you once they got together. What kind of friend does that?”

“Stop…” Arthur pleaded weakly. “Please…”

“Enough of this foolishness, Arthur,” scolded Mordred. “You know as well as I do that they have done nothing but hurt you, and yet here you are, still clinging to their memory. Even I know that this isn’t healthy, and the sooner you get over them, the better off you will be.”

Arthur clenched his fist; he didn’t want to admit it...he couldn’t admit it, but Mordred was right. This wasn’t healthy, and Lewis, Vivi, and Mystery were out of his life (or afterlife) now. They never looked for him, and, as Mordred said, it had been over a year since he died. Not once had he heard of the Mystery Skulls looking for him; it was like they were happy that he was gone.

He knew he needed to let them go just as they did him, yet...it hurt so much whenever he tried to forget them.

Slowly, Arthur went to his knees, sobbing uncontrollably, and the electrobeats that were out with him tried to wipe away his tears, but they kept coming.

He then looked up at Mordred. “What do you want from me, Mordred?” he asked weakly. “What are you trying to accomplish?”

Strangely, Mordred said nothing, at least not immediately. Once an answer came, a sigh came first.

“You should know why, partner.” Mordred’s voice was also strangely soft as he said this. “After all, I spelled it out for you so many times.”

Arthur looked to the floor, not responding as he continued crying. Once again, Mordred was right, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

They sat there for several seconds that felt like an eternity, the only sounds echoing throughout the ballroom being Arthur’s sobs. It was so strange, that Mordred wasn’t being callous like he normally would be.

Was that why he was here too? Arthur doubted it would be anything else.

Eventually, he looked up at his darker half. “Why are you here?” he found himself asking. “Was it to tell me this again?”

Again, Mordred said nothing at first. “You don’t need to concern yourself with that,” he said, almost a little too quickly.

Arthur looked up at him, eyes wide even with the tears. “You had a nightmare too, haven’t you?”

Mordred stared at Arthur, going silent once more.

“Why do you look so surprised?” asked Arthur. “We’ve spent over a year together, so what makes you think that I wouldn’t know of your quirks?”

No answer.

“You’re hiding something, Mordred,” Arthur continued. “I don’t know what it is, but it’s bothering you, just as the memories of Lewis and Vivi continue to haunt me. What is going on with you? Not only that, but why are you being this soft? You never are when I’m like this.”

Now Mordred looked caught off guard, far more than Arthur had ever seen him, and suddenly it made the green ghost look...vulnerable. He didn’t know why, but Arthur suddenly thought that he was looking at a person who was lost, both literally and figuratively, like he didn’t know what to do with himself. It was strange, very strange.

Arthur stared at him. “What’s wrong?” he asked, voice soft. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Mordred suddenly looked mortified, and he glared at Arthur, immediately turning his back to him. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he hissed. “You better hurry up and return to your room before you wake the boy, partner.”

“Mordred…!” began Arthur, standing up as the other ghost began to fade from the spot. “Don’t you dare turn your back on me! Mordred!”

But Mordred was already gone before Arthur could stop him, and for several seconds, he could only stare at the spot that the other used to be, before he cursed under his breath, furiously wiping away at his tears.

“Damn you…!” he growled in a watery voice.

Weakened chirps were heard beside him, and the electrobeats came into Arthur’s vision, concerned. Arthur forced himself to calm down as he tried his best to smile at them.

“That man…” he began with a sigh. “You would think that for such a ghost with immense power, he wouldn’t change.

The electrobeats peeped in confusion. At this, Arthur shook his head.

“Nevermind.” He then turned to the door. “Still, I should return to my room now. I think I’ll rest in my coffin this time. It’s been awhile since I last charged up.”

The electrobeats simply peeped in agreement before disappearing into his anchor, leaving Arthur alone to fade to his room, where the coffin was present, already prepared and waiting for him. With a sigh, Arthur floated towards it, slowly easing himself onto the plush orange cushions that it provided and crossing his hands together on his chest before he willed the coffin closed, which slowly proceeded to do so before it closed with a slight click, locking Arthur in darkness.

Soon, Arthur was lost in a world of blank unconsciousness, no dreams and no thoughts present to plague him this time.

However, if he had been awake for a little bit longer, he would’ve noticed that an unwelcome visitor had gotten inside the mansion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my, I wonder how that happened…
> 
> Let’s wait and see, shall we?


	22. Obsession

He didn’t think it was possible, but it had been fairly easy getting inside.

Then again, he had always been able to enter places that no one else could since he had been a child.

It had always been a huge advantage to him, especially as he got older.

That meant that he could get away with things that most people couldn’t.

Getting inside the house that belonged to the Man of Lightning was no exception.

On one hand, there was some part of it all that hadn’t made entering easy; that place was heavily guarded, and those guards were not something that he wanted to provoke. Even now, he could tell that they were extremely powerful and more than capable of doing their jobs.

As a result, he had to be careful when getting in.

So, turning himself invisible and disguising his aura, he had managed to sneak past the guards and head even deeper inside, and immediately the splendor of the mansion hit him hard.

Everything was so...perfect, filled with so much gold and expensive furniture and accessories. None of which he could bring with him, he knew, but now he knew what kind of place the Man of Lightning resided in.

It suited him well. Very well.

How exciting that he would be seeing him shortly.

All that searching had been worth it. He had admired the Man of Lightning after seeing him from afar months ago. It had been a time when he had been hiding out in the woods, and soon he came across a clearing that, strangely, had people.

He made sure to keep his distance, but he was able to see that all those people were not human, but supernaturals. They all ranged from appearance, to species, and to ghosts, and all of them were talking in lively tones, were dressed in beautiful clothing, and some even played amongst the trees.

Then, _he _appeared.

The Man of Lightning, a ghost who was known throughout this region as a protector of sorts, someone who took in lost souls, who protected innocent humans, and who made anyone who looked upon him fall in love with him according to rumors. He hadn’t been among any of the supernaturals, and he thought he saw the most eye-appealing species already.

All the supernaturals silenced when the Man of Lightning appeared in a splendor of golden and orange light, as well as sparks of electricity. He was posed so gracefully, so beautifully, and the way he looked upon everything was so...sensational. So, all he could do was stare from his spot, stunned, while all the supernaturals cheered at the sight of him.

He couldn’t approach him that night, simply because there were too many supernaturals surrounding him that night. So, he had to bide his time, and instead research him as much as he could, find out where he was even.

Of course, all those months felt like an eternity, as the Man of Lightning had not been easy to find. It was like he knew to evade him, was cunning enough to move places, and it infuriated him. Either way, perhaps it shouldn’t have been surprising, because the Man was obviously popular among all supernaturals, and clearly needed privacy.

However, what kept him going in his search was that patience surely rewards those who wait, and it was something he knew worked quite well. Even though he knew that he wanted to be closer to the Man of Lightning, to know all his vulnerabilities, what made him sad, what made him happy, what secrets he kept, everything he possibly could, he couldn’t rush things.

He had to be vigilant, even when it had always been infuriating whenever he never found out anything about the Man of Lightning or couldn’t find him.

But now here he was, and he couldn’t wait.

While still invisible, he proceeded to explore the mansion, stroking the walls, the furniture, the sculptures, and even the flowers he passed as he searched for what room the Man of Lightning could be in. As expected, they all felt amazing, perfect, and out of this world, and he couldn’t get enough of it.

He almost wished he could take these with him.

Well, it wasn’t going to matter, not until he found the Man of Lightning.

He continued through the mansion, concentrating hard on feeling for the presence of the Man of Lightning. So far, it was faint, but it was there, and it was getting stronger as he approached a certain room.

His excitement was growing. Almost there, then he will finally be with the Man of Lightning!

He could only hope that he would keep himself under control until then--

But wait…!

There were guards outside the door too. Granted, they were invisible, but he was still able to feel their massive presence, which almost made him falter. They stood as still as statues, ready and at focus, and he had no doubt that if they sensed or saw him, they would easily remove his head from his shoulders without so much as lifting a finger.

No doubt that these spirits had combat experience to last centuries.

Regardless, it wasn’t going to matter. He had already come so far; he couldn’t turn back now, not when he was so close.

Staying focused, he proceeded to slowly head that way, keeping a close eye on the guards, and not once did they turn his way as he approached. Eventually, he was in front of the door—the door that separated him from the Man of Lightning—and he felt his excitement continue to grow.

He forcefully squashed it down; no, no! He couldn't get excited now! That meant that the guards would take notice of him! He couldn’t lose focus now!

Once he was sure that he was as calm as he was supposed to be, he slowly walked past the guards and through the door, and just as suddenly, he was in one of the most extravagant bedrooms he had ever seen.

From the extremely large bed, the carpeting, the shelves upon shelves of books, the furniture, and the shards of light floating aimlessly about the room, he knew he was in the right room. Either way, he didn’t let up his invisibility, instead focusing on a coffin that was floating just above the bed.

He was there. The Man of Lightning was in there.

Slowly, he approached, never taking his eyes off that floating coffin. His heart was beating erratically through his chest, his breathing became labored, and he could even feel his cheeks begin to heat up the closer he got, until soon he was directly at the bedside, overlooking the coffin.

Now that he was closer, he was able to see that it was a beautiful coffin. It was black in color, yet there was a slight orange coloring to it, a skull-like design was near the top of it that was orange in color, and it emitted so much purity and light. If light had a personality and a human personification, this would be it.

Lifting up a hand, he slowly and gently pushed the coffin’s lid to the side.

Inside, a beautiful man lay resting, his eyes closed in slumber. His hands were clasped in front of his chest, his posture was relaxed and graceful, his hair fanned around him like a halo, his suit and trousers hugged his figure perfectly, and a magenta and blue-rimmed star was laying against the left side of his chest, pulsing slightly as if like a heartbeat.

His joy was growing as he saw him. This was him…

The Man of Lightning.

He did it…! He finally found him!

He finally found his love!

His now Sleeping Beauty!

Without thinking, he let up his physical invisibility, and now his panting and flushed figure was showing for all to see. However, the guards outside wouldn’t be able to sense him, not as long as he kept his aura concealed.

And that was going to be easy.

Reaching up a hand, he caressed the Man of Lightning’s face, so soft under his fingers. The Man didn’t even stir, so deep in his slumber was he, and at that point, he couldn’t help himself.

Getting closer to the coffin, he proceeded to lean in, getting closer, closer, _closer_...to the Man’s lips, which looks so soft, as soft as flower petals the closer he got.

Oh, how tantalizing…!

He was finally going to know what the Man of Lightning’s lips felt against his own, what his mouth tasted like, and was going to do it so much more after this! After he awakened his Sleeping Beauty, he will finally be his!

This would be perfect!

However, he never noticed someone enter the room, nor would he be able to put up any invisibility at that time, because she would see him and what he had been about to do to her sleeping master.

So, he was unprepared when he heard a horrified gasp behind him, causing him to snap around to see a woman staring at him in horror, her hands over her mouth as she stared at him, the broom she had falling from her hands as a result with a clatter.

No…

No!

Why? Why did she come in?!

How dare she come in!

He couldn’t let her alert the guards to his presence! That would mean all his dedication, all his hard work, had been for nothing!

But, strangely, he couldn’t move, no matter how much he willed it.

It was deadly silent for several moments, neither the woman or him doing anything except staring at the other in differing kinds of horror. Then, the woman with hair made of water, light blue skin, and scales opened her mouth.

“Who are you?” she demanded. “What are you doing in here?”

He didn’t answer. That was his worst mistake.

The ghost woman’s eyes continued to widen in horror, the blue orbs now filled with horrified recognition, and slowly she began to collapse upon herself.

“I know you, you’re…!” she choked, the terror returning. “You...you are—!”

She then moved to scream, and he couldn’t move fast enough to stop her when he finally found himself able to move.

** _“GUARDS!!”_ **

~~~

Good grief, there was so much to do, and so little time.

But it was something that Ofelia welcomed. She was still fairly new to this mansion, being one of the youngest ghosts, though she was grateful that she had been taken in. Lady Elizabeth had been kind enough to give her the role of a maid when she found her, and being that she used to be a housekeeper at a hotel once, it was a job she was more than prepared for.

It also helped that there were others like her too.

“Ofelia?”

Immediately she looked up, seeing Josephine, another maid ghost who had black skin, dark curly hair, and dark eyes that literally sparkled like stars even when she didn’t move. Ofelia had always thought she was a beautiful ghost, while she was just a ghost that appeared to be made of water. After all, her hair was literally made with clear blue water with droplets floating around her, her eyes were now a bright blue, and her skin with a light blue with hints of scales here and there, with her ears pointed like a fish’s fin and scales that formed side triangles from her ear to one part of her cheekbone on each side.

She didn’t always have this appearance, but supposed that it was fitting, considering how she died.

Immediately she shivered. _No, do not think about that, Ofelia. Don’t go there now._

“Ofelia, are you alright?” Josephine’s concerned voice brought Ofelia out of her thoughts.

She jumped. “A-Ah, I’m sorry, Josephine, I was just thinking,” was all she could say.

Josephine blinked in concern before she smiled gently, her dark eyes soft. “Well, Master Arthur is resting in his coffin now, and I was just wondering if you weren’t too busy if you could clean his room a little bit for him.”

Ofelia smiled brightly. “Of course! I was actually looking for some more work to do anyway!”

Josephine smiled back. “I’m glad to hear that! This work has been helping you, I hope?”

“Of course!” Ofelia’s smile turned gentle as she thought back. “I’m very grateful to Lady Elizabeth for finding me and Master Arthur for allowing me to stay. Master Mordred was also kind enough to let me stay too.”

Josephine nodded. “Yes, they are good people, even Master Mordred, even if he doesn’t want to admit it.”

Master Mordred...Ofelia was not ashamed to admit that he frightened her. Still, she would never say that to his face; that would be complete insanity and like signing one’s own death warrant (well, she was already dead, but the point was still there). Not only that, but Ofelia was able to tell that all the occupants in the mansion were afraid of him too, including Lady Elizabeth and the other three painting ghosts (she was also willing to bet that Master Arthur was afraid of him too. They always had conflicts of interest after all), and it wasn’t that hard to see why.

Sure, Master Mordred was an old, powerful, and sadistic ghost who took pleasure in the suffering of others, and that point had been made clear to her since the day she first came into this mansion. However, if Ofelia had to guess, she would say that Master Mordred was literal darkness personified, especially since he was able to manipulate darkness to his will, just as Master Arthur could manipulate light to his will.

However, it was obvious to pretty much everyone that Master Mordred was the most powerful of the two, and Ofelia had been able to see why exactly the darker ghost was feared so much.

He was a destroyer, through and through. It was as simple as that.

Ofelia still remembered that one supernatural who came as a guest to the mansion to one of the parties Master Arthur hosted, specifically one who wasn’t a ghost or anything that had died (that she knew of). Due to it being so long ago however, she couldn’t remember what exactly they were...a fae, perhaps? Or something else? She couldn’t remember.

Anyway, that was a supernatural who had made the stupid decision to anger Master Mordred. There was a specific reason why no one who didn’t live in the mansion was allowed to explore the deeper parts of the house, and that supernatural made the decision to do just that when they thought no one was looking.

If there was one thing Master Mordred hated (and made perfectly clear from day one), it was when his territory was intruded upon, even if half of it belonged to Master Arthur.

Ofelia can still remember the sound of that supernatural screaming in raw terror and, eventually, pure insanity, as well as the sound of them being ripped in half.

Ugh, that sight had not been pleasant, especially since she and a few of her fellow maids had to clean up that mess.

Still, Ofelia had to be thankful that she didn’t see the supernatural commit the act, nor did she have to witness Master Mordred’s rage firsthand (and more likely be caught in the middle of it). However, what did make Master Mordred’s notoriety prominent with her was the fact that this supernatural was quite old and very, very powerful, probably more powerful than Master Mordred himself.

But she was getting off topic.

Ofelia giggled. “Yeah, I do think this has been helping,” she agreed to Josephine’s earlier statement. “Well, we better return to our chores now. Don’t want Master Mordred yelling at us…”

Josephine nodded, giggling nervously as her skin shone brightly for a brief moment. “Of course, I don’t think I want to anger him anytime soon either.”

Ofelia could only smile back, just as nervously. That one time a few months ago had been enough, and Master Arthur had not been happy with Master Mordred from what Lady Elizabeth had told them afterwards.

It always made Ofelia feel warm to know that Master Arthur cared about them and wanted them to feel safe and respected, regardless of their power levels and standing.

She turned to leave, but then something came to mind, so Ofelia turned back to Josephine. “Josephine?” she called.

Josephine, who was in the midst of leaving herself, turned back. “Yes?”

“Should I also check on Bailey?” Ofelia asked. “I know that it’s early for him to be up, but I’m sure it wouldn't hurt to check on him.”

Josephine, upon turning to fully face Ofelia, shook her head, smiling gently. “That won’t be necessary,” she said. “The child is being guarded well, and Maia had been assigned to look after him.”

Maia, the maid ghost whose long dark pink hair seemed to float, almost like fire, even when she wasn’t moving. Her soft appearance always reminded Ofelia of a sunset; so beautiful, calming, and natural. It was also known throughout the mansion that Maia was one of the most motherly ghosts here, though Ofelia had to admit that she didn’t know much about the other ghost’s past, though she could pretty much say the same about everyone here.

Not that she was any better.

Ofelia nodded to Josephine’s statement. “I know, but I just wanted to be sure,” she said.

Josephine nodded. “I understand.”

_“Josephine, Ofelia.”_

Looking upwards due to being startled, Ofelia and Josephine saw Anne, a ghost with glowing pale blonde hair and glowing pale skin looking over at them, which made Ofelia mistake her as a moon spirit when she first met her. Hell, she even had a trail of what appeared to be moondust following behind her. “What are you two doing?” she asked disapprovingly.

Ofelia flushed in embarrassment, though Josephine kept her composure. “Forgive me, Anne,” she began, elegantly bowing slightly, “I was just asking Ofelia if she could go clean Master Arthur’s room, especially now that he is resting in his coffin.”

Ofelia nodded to confirm this.

Anne raised an eyebrow, but then nodded. “I see,” she said. “Then the both of you should get on it. You know that we can’t afford to slack off.”

Both women nodded. “Of course, Anne.”

Before they could fade to their destinations, though, Anne spoke again. “Oh, and Ofelia?”

“Yes?”

“When you are done, you are needed in the kitchen. Benedict is planning to prepare something special for young Bailey for breakfast.”

Ofelia blinked, wondering why the crabby yet dedicated head chef ghost, Benedict, could possibly want her help. He was known throughout the mansion as (again) an irritable ghost who hated asking for help, much less allowing anyone to do his work for him, even when he needed it. He also expected the best out of everyone, even those who didn’t have any experience in cooking, and if anyone messed up even a little...well, let’s just say that Benedict will be on your case about it whenever you are nearby, and that’s literally the last thing you want when working for him.

So why would he need help, much less admit to it?

Regardless, Ofelia nodded. “Of course.”

Anne nodded back, fading from the spot, and Ofelia chose that moment to do the same as she went to her destination.

Unlike the maids’ quarters at the present moment, the hallways were dark, but that was to be expected as it was still nighttime and most of the occupants were in their resting stages. Still, Ofelia had to admit that it felt strange, even though this half of the mansion was light and was easy to just be in. However, she quickly brushed it off, knowing that she was just thinking about her time as a housekeeper at a hotel, a business of which was known to have mixed reputations of not being the safest places, even though that depended on the location.

Still, even though Ofelia liked to think that she had worked in a relatively safe hotel, there were still instances where she felt uncomfortable, unsafe even, mostly because of the shady people that checked in or the people she worked with.

Ofelia continued down the hallway that led to Master Arthur’s room, a peaceful smile appearing on her face as she noticed the presence of the guards standing there at both sides of the door. As she got closer, she nodded to them in greeting.

“Good evening,” she greeted. “Keep up the good work, alright? Thank you so much for your service.”

Even though she couldn’t see them at the moment, Ofelia was able to feel their smiles. She even heard their voices in her head.

_“Thank you, Miss Ofelia.”_

As a rule, most of the guards spoke through a telepathic link, mostly because many of them were under orders to keep themselves hidden at all times and only reveal themselves when absolutely needed. If Ofelia was going to be honest here, she thought that it was unfair, even though none of the guards she spoke to had any problem with it.

Regardless, she did feel safer knowing that they were here. They all took their jobs seriously, and knew how to handle just about anything, whether they be powerful supernaturals or humans with ill intentions. They all knew what to do to deal with them, and Ofelia felt glad that they were here, watching out for not only Master Mordred and Master Arthur, but also anyone who lived in this mansion.

It made her feel safe, far more safe than she ever had before, and the fact that many of the guards were ghosts who had centuries of combat experience increased the feeling.

After smiling at them one last time, Ofelia fazed through the door of Master Arthur’s room, a broom appearing in her hands, but just as she was about to get started sweeping, she saw a sight she was not expecting.

At first, Ofelia didn’t understand what she was looking at. There was a human-sized black blob before her, standing near Master Arthur’s coffin. She blinked, wondering if one of the maids or even Master Arthur had brought something into his room without anyone knowing.

But then the blob moved, going deeper into Master Arthur’s coffin.

...what? Ofelia’s sight had to be playing tricks on her, there was no way…

Her eyes then began to widen as she watched the male figure before her lean into Master Arthur’s coffin, his intentions clear as day. It was then when she finally gasped out, dripping the broom and her hands flying to her mouth.

Immediately, the figure spun around, and even though she could barely see him, the light shards gave enough light to show Ofelia the shock on the man’s face, and if she still had a beating heart, it would've been pounding against her chest.

It was so silent in the room, neither Ofelia or the figure before her moving to make a sound, much less move. However, Ofelia slowly felt anger overcome her.

“Who are you?” she demanded. “What are you doing in here?”

So many questions were running through Ofelia’s mind, like how this human got in here, what he wanted, and what the hell he thought he was doing in Master Arthur’s room. From the way he was positioned over her resting master, his intentions were not pure.

She also knew that she would’ve gladly asked those questions when she didn’t get a good look of his face when the light shards moved in a way that his entire figure was illuminated.

She choked; what…? No, please no…!

That face, she knew that face…!

She couldn’t forget it, even if she wanted to!

“I know you…” Ofelia whispered weakly, and now she could barely breathe, could barely think, and felt the terror grow and choke her. “You...you are—!”

She didn’t know how she managed it, not even as she slowly fell to her knees in shock and felt panic fill her entire being, causing her form to flicker like water and drops of water to fall to the floor like rain, but she managed to scream out.

** _“GUARDS!!”_ **

Just as suddenly, the door slammed open, and the room was filled with guards. Soon the man was screaming out as he was painfully restrained by the guards, who tackled him in just a split second and put into a not so comfortable position afterwards. Through her panic, Ofelia could sense that the human was trying to use some kind of supernatural ability, but the guards were unaffected.

She felt panic overcome her entire being, even as she saw the man at the mercy of the guards, but still she could only focus on one thing.

That monster was here! He was here! He-he had tried--

“Master! Master!” Ofelia even sent much—too much—of her energy at Master Arthur, who remained asleep through it all. “Wake up, wake up! Intruder! Intruder!”

Instantly, Ofelia heard a gasp as Master Arthur shot up from the coffin, but she couldn’t focus on what exactly woke him up.

There was an intruder…! Intruder…!

Why? Was was _he _here? What did he want?

How did he get in?!

What was he trying to do?!

Was he--was he trying to hurt Master Arthur?!

No, no please!

_Please, go away…! Leave me alone! I don’t want to go anywhere with you!_

_Wait, what are you doing? Why do you have that?_

_No, stay away from me!_

_Go away!_

_Just leave me alone!_

_Stop!_

_STOP!_

** _S T O P ! ! ! !_ **

“OFELIA!”

But Ofelia had long retreated into her anchor, desperate to escape that memory, and not once did she hear her master calling out for her as she did so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy...trouble always seems to come in many forms to this manor…
> 
> Another shorter chapter than I like, and I am not proud of how this turned out, but it's pretty hard when you literally can't think of anything else that would fit without it feeling ridiculous. Hopefully the next will be longer.
> 
> Also, yes, Ofelia is a water-based ghost, but as she is still fairly young and doesn’t have a pure soul like Arthur does, she is not a particularly powerful one. Her design is loosely based off of Zelda C. Wang’s interpretation of Metis, a Titaness from Greek mythology who was an Oceanid, Zeus’ first wife, and the mother of Athena, the goddess of wisdom. For those of you who are curious, the comic that this adaptation of Metis is from is called MYth, which is a loose adaptation of the stories learned in Greek mythology. I thought that the design of Metis’ character, especially the scales located on her cheekbones, would be perfect for Ofelia’s character (though holy shit I don’t know how anyone would be able to describe them if you were to ask someone not familiar with the series. I hate that I can’t describe these kinds of things, especially when I don’t have the right sources).
> 
> I highly recommend the comic, as it contains beautiful artwork, a compelling story, and interesting characters, and Zelda introduces both the heroes and the villains in a gray perspective, which is something I love to see in any kind of story. So if any of you love Greek mythology and the kind of morally gray stories I talked about in the previous sentence, then this will be up your alley!


End file.
